Where the Heart is
by RebelBookWorm
Summary: I always wondered, was it you who caught me staring, or was it me who caught you? A series of drabble/short stories written in two parts. Fremione, ranging anywhere from friendship to romance. Suggestions welcomed! T for safety in later drabbles.
1. Sunshine

_Was it you who caught me staring?_

Early-morning sunlight filtered in through the half-drawn curtains, falling gently onto the couple in the bed. Fred Weasley stirred, his blue eyes opening slowly, and reached his arm out to close the curtains as best he could without getting up, grateful for his long arms. Sleepily, he gazed down at the witch still fast asleep in his arms, her head tucked into his chest. As he watched, she shifted slightly, her hand moving into the solitary ray of sunshine on the bed between them. It glinted off the engagement ring that used to belong to his Great-Grandmother, and the simple wedding band she recently started wearing. He brushed a tendril of her long, bushy hair out of her face, smiling as it sprung back into place. She stirred and reached out for him, opening her chocolate-brown eyes to glance at him curiously when her fingers had to reach farther then normal to touch his chest. He smiled at her, and leaned down to kiss her now-smiling lips.

_Or was it me who caught you?_

Eyes and mind both firmly closed to the idea of morning, Hermione reached her hand out to find Fred. She had almost lost him in the final battle, and she still took a great deal of comfort from being able to feel him beside her. As her fingers reached further then she was used to, she began to panic, worrying that it had all been a dream and she had really lost Fred. Then, the tips of her fingers made contact with his smooth, warm skin, and she relaxed. Curious as to why he wasn't in his usual position, sleeping, she opened her eyes. The first thing she did was look for his eyes. Once she had seen them, and the last tiny bit of doubt for his realism had been brushed thoroughly from her mind, she let her eyes wander a bit. She followed the line of his jaw to where it met the thick tendons of his neck, and then down his very well muscled chest, toned from years of Quidditch, smiling reflexively before Fred captured her lips with his. His hands tangled in his hair, and he broke away. "Let's stay in bed today, love," he murmured, kissing along her jawbone. She almost assented, eyelids fluttering, to his very convincing argument. "Mmm…" She protested eloquently. "C'mon, love… I'll have Georgie cover the store for me," he flicked his wand casually, his fox-patronus appearing beside him, "and I'll tell the ministry that you're very, very sick today." She grabbed his wrist and flicked his wand for him. Tossing the wand into the corner of the room as the fox disappeared, Fred reached down and kissed her again. "Knew you had it in you, Love."


	2. The Library

**A/N: Thanks to iLoveRomance2o11 for adding me to your story alert, and for your review. I'm glad you enjoyed the story, and I hope you also enjoy this one! **

**Thanks to oo-Kalrl-oo for adding my story to your favorite stories list, that's quite an honor!**

**Please enjoy the next drabble/story (it's too long to be a drabble but it's not a full story so...)!  
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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

The library was quieter then usual as Hermione sat, surrounded by books, scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. Professor Binns had assigned ten inches on a particular Goblin rebellion in the 1500's, and she wanted to finish it quickly, so she could go back to work on S.P.E.W. (today she was going to finish drawing up the manifesto). Harry and Ron had decided to play wizard's chess in the Gryffindor common room instead of joining her, as usual. She was pretty sure that in a week's time they'd be coming to her, begging for help to finish the essays on time, and that she would relent, eventually, to helping them. For the moment, though, she measured her parchment (9 ½ inches) before deciding to add the last bit of information she'd read in the heaviest text lying to her left, her small, neat handwriting filling the parchment slowly. After measuring the parchment again to ensure she'd reached ten inches, she rolled it up and stowed it in her bag along with her quills and ink. Slinging it over her shoulder, she reached down and gathered up the large stack of books, tottering slightly as she edged her way to the 'returns' shelf. Madam Pince swept by as she set them down, and with a wave of her wand, sent them flying back to their places. As she swept off again, a flash of movement behind her caught Hermione's eye. Fred and George were sneaking away from one of the more crowded places in the library. Fred looked up at her and smiled before hurrying over to her. George followed silently, also smiling at her. "I hope you're not-" "Shhh!" Fred interrupted. Affronted, Hermione turned around, preparing to return to her corner of the library. Two hands grabbed her arms before she could walk off, and she found herself being drug backwards by the Weasley twins. They paused long enough for her to turn around and walk alongside them. "What-" "You might want to stay out of the library for a while, Granger," Fred interrupted again, cheerfully. "Unless you want to smell like dungbombs for a week." George added in a low voice, winking at her conspiratorially. "You didn't!" She hissed at them furiously. "But we did, Granger," They said together. Once they reached the entry to the library, the twins held the doors open for her, looking like a pair of grinning bookends. As soon as she'd passed over the threshold, they tugged her away again, into a passageway hidden behind a nearby portrait, just before the doors burst open and a group of students rushed out, followed closely by the smell of dungbombs. Hermione clutched at her bag, suddenly glad that she'd remembered to bring it.

_Or was it me who caught you?_

"I have a fabulous idea, Forge," George said to his twin, lounging beside him on the love seat in the Gryffindor common room. "What's that, brother mine?" Fred asked, interestedly. "We should plant some dungbombs in the library." Fred laughed, "great idea, Gred!" He leapt up, suddenly excited by this new idea. They raced up to their dormitory, grabbed several dungbombs they'd smuggled in from Hogsmeade last visit. Pulling on their cloaks to hide the bulky objects, the two boys hurried from the room and out the portrait of the fat lady. "We'd better take a passage, Forge," George murmured, "Don't want Filch finding us," Fred replied, "The slimy git," George finished. Laughing, the two turned to the statue that concealed the passage to the library. George gave it the password and it sidled to the left to admit them. When they reached the doors to the library, they nodded to each other, a silent agreement to be as quiet as they could. They slipped into the main atrium silently and split up, each taking a different side. Once Fred had planted his dungbombs strategically in several alcoves and corners, he and George took off for the exit. "Only a few more minutes now, Gred," Fred, full to bursting with excitement, told his brother. George laughed aloud and said, "Then we'd better get out of here, Forge." Fred looked up then, and straight into the curious eyes of Hermione Granger. He grinned reflexively before realizing, subconsciously, that they really should get her out of here too. He hurried over to her, ready to drag her out if needed. "I hope you're not-" "Shhh!" Fred interrupted her, very conscious of the fact that there was only a few minutes left before they'd all smell like dungbombs. Hermione tried to leave, but the twins grabbed her, exchanging a look of mingled exasperation and humor, and began to drag her along with them as they made their escape. Once it was clear that she was going to follow them, they slowed down a bit and released her arms. She turned around and walked with them, unable to remain silent for long. "What-" "Might want to stay out of there for a while, Granger." Fred was too cheerful to let Hermione give them a lecture, "Unless you want to smell like dungbombs for a week," George added, from her other side. She looked shocked, and angry. "You didn't!" she hissed, sounding furious. "But we did, Granger," Fred wasn't surprised that George had spoken at the same time as he had, or that he grabbed the second door of the library's entry just as he grabbed the first. He began to smell the faint scent of dungbombs about to go off, and looked toward his brother. George nodded, and together, they pushed Hermione into the portrait they had emerged from, listening with satisfaction as the sound of several dozen students escaping from the library and the dungbombs that he and his brother had planted.


	3. Wingardium Leviosa

**A/N: Thanks** **to: meganooch for adding my little story to your story alert!** **I hope you continue to enjoy it :)**

**Also, I remind you that any and all ideas and requests for the drabbles are welcome.**

**Enjoy! :)  
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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

"Forge, you've got my shirt!" George's voice interrupted Fred's very impure thoughts about a certain muggle-born witch currently residing at the Burrow. "Oh, er… sorry," he muttered, pulling it over his head and tossing it at his twin. "What's got you so quiet, brother mine?" Fred looked up, a look of half-amusement, half-chagrin on his face. "Hermione again?" George guessed, and Fred nodded, not the least bit surprised by his twin's intuitiveness. "Just tell her you fancy her already, will you?" Chuckling, George slammed his trunk shut and levitated it from the room. Absently, Fred Accio'ed his last pair of socks and tossed them into his trunk, full to bursting, as usual, with joke merchandise. He left it in his room so his mum wouldn't search it, and leant against the doorframe of his and George's bedroom, his attention caught by the selfsame witch he'd just been daydreaming about. Hermione expertly guided her levitating trunk down the stairs, her face screwed into an expression of concentration that he found adorable. George's voice sounded in his head just then, distracting him, "Just tell her you fancy her already, will you?" He made up his mind just as she passed him on the stairs, too focused on her trunk to take any notice of him. "Oi, Granger!" He couldn't do it. "Need some help?" He finished lamely, nearly breaking her concentration, if he was any judge of the trunk's sudden wobbliness. "No, I don't!" She said rather snappily, turning to face him. Her face reddened suddenly, and the trunk wobbled dangerously again. She turned away quickly, and he glanced down at himself, slightly embarrassed as he realized that he had forgotten to put on a shirt. A loud banging noise caught his attention, and he looked up to see Hermione's trunk clattering down the stairs. Apparently, she had been quite a bit more affected then he'd thought. Laughing, his embarrassment completely forgotten, he twisted in place, disapparating and reappearing at the foot of the staircase. "Wingardium Leviosa!" He shouted, the trunk rising with his wand. Trotting off and guiding the trunk, he turned his head to shout, still laughing, "You're welcome, Granger!"

_Or was it me who caught you?_

Hermione had always loved the Burrow. Perhaps it was because she was an only child, but the constant noise from the Weasley family had comforted her from the day she had first visited. Even after You-Know-Who had returned at the end of last year, the Weasley house had always been full of laughter, thanks mostly to Fred and George's constant jesting. She felt her cheeks redden slightly as she thought of them, Fred's grinning face sticking firmly in her mind. Shaking her head softly, she Accio'ed her new robes to her, and set them gently in her trunk before continuing to make her possessions zoom across the room toward her. The Burrow was silent today, as everyone was packing up to go to 12 Grimmauld Place for the rest of the summer, because the members of the Order had decided that it wasn't safe for them to stay at the Burrow any more. She chatted a little with Ginny as they packed, but the younger girl was sad to be leaving her home, and didn't speak much. Hermione finished packing, closed her trunk, and stood to leave the room, patting Ginny on the shoulder comfortingly as she did so. "Wingardium Leviosa," she murmured, guiding her trunk from the room and down the stairs. She was so focused on her trunk that, as she passed Fred and George's room, she was surprised by Fred Weasley's voice calling out, "Oi, Granger," a pause. "Need some help?" Her trunk shook warningly as she spun around to face him. "No I don't!" she snapped as she struggled to maintain her focus on the trunk still hovering in the air. Her face reddened as she took in his appearance, lounging casually against his doorframe without his shirt on, for some reason. Looking away quickly, she struggled to regain control of her trunk, which had started to wobble dangerously. It was too late, however, her concentration was broken. The trunk fell from the air, clattering loudly down the stairs. Fred laughed beside her, but before she could shout at him for it, he had disapparated with a loud crack. He reappeared at the base of the stairs, called out, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and before she could react, was guiding her trunk out into the living room. Over his shoulder, he shouted toward her, laughing, "You're welcome, Granger!"


	4. The Newest Weasley

**A/N: Thanks again** **to iLoveRomance2o11 for your review- I'm glad you like the chapter, and the way Fred behaved. It just seemed like something he'd do. I'm also glad you're enjoying the stories, and I hope you like this one as well.**

**Thanks to laneanne for adding my story to your story alert, I appreciate it.**

**Once again, I remind you that requests and suggestions are welcomed, and please enjoy the next, rather long, drabble/story.**

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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

"Can I help you?" Fred approached a boy, probably no older then a third year, who was browsing the shelves of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. "Erm…" The boy thought for a moment, before nodding and holding up a product. "What are these?" Fred studied the box for a moment before recognising the brightly coloured label. Those are skiving snackboxes," He smiled, thinking back fondly on his Hogwarts days. "My brother and I invented them while we were at Hogwarts," he whispered conspiratorially to the boy, who looked impressed. "Really?" George walked up then, slung his arm around the boy, and said, "Yep! I'll tell you all about it if you like." The boy nodded vigorously, his eyes wide. "Just a sec," George told the boy, and turned to Fred again, speaking in a low voice. "We just got an owl from St. Mungo's, Gred. You might want to read it, it's in the back room." Fred felt like his insides had decided to turn to lead. "Do you think it's-" He broke off, suddenly feeling more frightened then he ever had in his life. George shrugged and led the boy away, telling the familiar story to the still wide-eyed youth. Gulping, Fred turned toward the back of the store, passing Lee and Verity, who looked overwhelmed by the crowds. He mouthed, "Cover for me," to Lee, who grinned tiredly, shot him a thumbs up, and disappeared into the crowd. When he reached the back room, he found the letter, sitting unopened on the table. Nervously, he reached out to take the letter, opened it, and read it. Yelping, he dropped the letter, ran to the fireplace, took a handful of floo powder and tossed it in the flames, shouting, "St. Mungo's!" When he arrived in the lobby of the hospital, he ran to the front desk and shouted at the (very frightened) receptionist. "She's in room 210, floor 4, Mr Weasley." She squeaked out, pointing him in the right direction. "Thanks," he called out, already running in the direction she pointed.

A few minutes later, he burst into room 210, panting slightly. "Sorry I'm late-" He quieted immediately, both occupants of the bed were asleep. He sunk into a chair beside the bed and smiled at his wife and newborn child. The baby had the familiar shock of Weasley hair, flaming orange and wispy. The woman holding it looked drawn and her normally bushy brown hair fanned limply over the pillow. He laid his hand on top of hers and watched her sleep, feeling proud and amazed. Ron and Harry walked in a few minutes later, smiled and left him alone. The baby stirred and woke, eyes the same shade of brown as his wife's blinked at him. The baby opened its mouth and began to cry, the high-pitched noise filling the room. Panicking slightly, Fred reached over and took the baby, cradling it the way he had seen his mum do to a baby Ginny. He rocked the baby gently, because it was still crying, and began to sing softly to it, the same song his mum had sung to him and George when they were young. The baby now quieted, and blinked at him some more, before yawning and closing its eyes. Breathing a sigh of relief, he looked up and watched his wife, who had begun stirring when her baby had started crying. Her eyes blinked open, and met his. Smiling when she saw the baby in his arms, she said hoarsely, "Hi, Fred." "Hi, 'Mione," He answered, kissing her forehead. "He's beautiful, isn't he?" She asked him, reaching out a hand to stroke her son's face. "Yes, he is." Fred agreed, "And I'm going to teach him to be just like me and Georgie!" Hermione looked shocked. "You will do no such thing! Frederick Gideon Weasley, I'm warning you-" He put a finger to her lips, "Shh… Don't wake up our son," He grinned. She glared at him for a moment before her expression softened. She scooted over on the bed to make room for him, and he obliged, his son (His _Son!)_ still nestled in his arm. Hermione leaned into his other side, sighing contentedly, and he kissed the top of her head. "Er… What's his name, Hermione?" Fred asked, but she was already asleep. Looking down at the sleeping baby, he decided that whatever Hermione had named him would be perfect.

_Or was it me who caught you?_

"You did very well, my dear," The healer told Hermione, handing her now-clean baby to her, "We're going to send an owl to your husband to inform him about the birth of his son, and I think you should try to get some sleep." Smiling sleepily, she nodded at the healer. She gazed down proudly at her son, who already looked like a Weasley, his wisps of hair a bright orange. The boy blinked up at her, and she realized his eyes looked like hers. His little fist closed over her finger, and she smiled, tears of happiness threatening to leak out. She looked toward the door, hoping Harry and Ron would come back soon. They had left the room, Ron looking faintly green, when the healer had come bustling in, and hadn't come back since. She was happily surprised to see a pair of bright green eyes peeking in carefully, as though worried about what they might see inside the room, from the doorway. "Harry!" she called, and her raven-haired friend burst through the door. "'Mione!" He replied, stooping to hug her carefully, "How are you?" His eyes were serious as he sat beside her. "Fine," she said, "A little tired, but fine." He smiled then, something she never got tired of seeing. "How's Ginny?" Hermione asked, realizing belatedly that she hadn't asked about her sister-in-law earlier. "She's fine. James is giving her trouble," He chuckled at this, "especially now that she's pregnant again," He told her, the first she'd heard of it. "Oh, Harry! Congratulations!" She smiled fondly at her friend, thoroughly happy for him and his family. "Thanks, "Mione." He laughed, then, as though he'd just thought of it, asked, "What are you going to do with him while you're both at work?" Hermione thought for a second. "I think I'll take some time off… work from home, you know, and then when he's a little older, I'll bring him to work with me. I've made some serious headway on House-Elf rights," She confided in him, "I think pretty soon they'll be given proper wages and everything!" Harry looked as though that was something he didn't want to hear about. "Tell you what," He said, standing, "Why don't I go get Ron? He'll be glad to know you're… done." Hermione laughed. "Thanks, Harry!" she smiled at him, and he left. Yawning, she decided to take a bit of a nap before Harry returned with Ron (she was thoroughly knackered, after all), and was glad to see that her son seemed to have the same idea.

She was awakened by the sound of her son crying, what felt like only a few seconds later. She stirred, ready to comfort her son, but the gentle pressure of him in her arms was removed, and she wondered if Fred could possibly be here now. She heard him singing softly to the now-silent baby, a song she didn't recognised but was beautiful nonetheless. Finally prying her eyes open, she was met by his, blue and sparkling with their usual supressed humour. "Hi, Fred," She said, her voice hoarse. "Hi, 'Mione," he replied, kissing her forehead. "He's beautiful, isn't he?" She asked, reaching out reflexively to stroke their baby's soft cheek. "Yes he is," Fred replied, "And I'm going to teach him to be just like me and Georgie!" Shocked, Hermione struggled not to shout at him. "You will do no such thing! Frederick Gideon Weasley, I'm warning you-" She was cut off by his finger, pressing gently against her lips. "Shh…" he said in a low voice that made her tingly, "Don't wake up our son!" He grinned, and she glared at him, her anger melting in the face of his cheeky grin. Sighing, she scooted over on the bed so that he could lie with her, wanting to be close to him. He quickly obliged, their son still cradled in his arm, sleeping. She took his other side, nestling in and sighing contentedly. Her eyes drooped and she felt him kiss the top of her head. 'I hope he's just like you, Fred,' She thought, before sleep claimed her again.


	5. The Yule Ball

**A/N: Thanks,** **again, to iLoveRomance2o11 for reviewing. I'm just glad that someone's enjoying it! :)**

**I'm sort of unofficially dedicating this to you. More appropriately, I'm posting a second one today because of your kind reviews. I hope you enjoy it.**

**I admit to borrowing a few phrases from the Goblet of Fire book, but for the most part, it's all me. **

**Once again, I remind you that suggestions and requests are welcomed.**

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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

Fred and George Weasley were in trouble again. "Mr Weasley, and, er… Mr Weasley, if you would please so kind as to pay attention," Professor McGonagall barked at them, "I have an announcement." "Just for us? Minnie, that's so kind," George replied cheekily. She pursed her lips but otherwise ignored him. "The Yule Ball is approaching- as you might already know- and I expect you all to _behave,_" She looked at Fred and George firmly. "I think Minnie is referring to us, brother mine," Fred said loudly, earning another look of disapproval from Professor McGonagall, and a chuckle from the other students. "It is a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament, and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests." She went on to describe the specifics, and again expressed her wish that no one, especially not a Gryffindor, embarrass the school in any way. George, who, like his twin, was not listening any longer, whispered to Fred, "This is your chance, Gred!" "Er… for what?" Fred muttered, and George watched, feeling sort of smug, as realization dawned on his twin's face. "Hermione, mate," Fred whacked his twin with his Transfiguration book, but George was laughing too hard to care.

"I don't know how you convinced me to do this," Fred complained, a week later. He and George were waiting outside Professor Binns' class, which Hermione happened to be in. The bell rang, drowning out whatever George was going to say and causing Fred's stomach to do a weird sort of flip. Students flooded out of the room, George reached out and snagged Hermione's arm, and before he knew it, George had disappeared with a saucy wink and a hurried excuse, and he was alone with Hermione. "What do you want, Frederick?" She sounded vaguely annoyed, "I agreed to help Harry practice his summoning charms, and I still have to revise my essay." "Er… I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Yule Ball with me?" Her face turned red. "I-I'm sorry Fred, but… I've already agreed to go with someone else." "Oh." He could have kicked himself. "Who?" He asked, dully. "Er… Viktor Krum?" Are you asking me or telling me, Granger?" He joked, "Lucky bloke, Krum." Hermione blushed attractively, making Fred's stomach twist again. "Well, erm… I've got to go. Georgie'll be waiting for me." He turned away, the tips of his ears warm. "Fred?" She asked softly. "Yeah?' He turned around quickly. "I really am sorry." "That's okay, 'Mione," He heard himself saying, before walking away sadly.

Fred ended up asking Angelina Johnson to the dance instead, because he knew she had been holding out for him to ask her. He supposed she looked pretty, but not nearly as pretty as Hermione. When she walked down the stairs, his breath had all whooshed out of him in one burst, and his heart had started thudding painfully in his chest. Seeing her walk away with Krum made him want to punch the Bulgarian. George walked by and clapped him on the back, bringing him back to his date. "Let's dance, Fred," she begged him, and he obliged, deciding to have fun despite himself. Several dances later, he and Angelina were laughing and he had to admit he was having a lot more fun then he thought he would. Eventually, Angelina begged to be allowed to sit, and he reflexively looked around for Hermione. With a jolt, he watched her as she shouted at Ron (the git. If he hurt her…) and then ran to the stairs, sitting alone and looking as though she was crying. He rushed over to her, without a thought for his 'date'. "'Mione? What's wrong?" He sat beside her, surprised when she turned to him and buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing. "R-Ron… h-he accused me of fr-fraternizing with the enemy…" she choked out. "I-I only went with Krum because he asked… He was s-so nice to me in the li-library and he's really quite k-kind…" "Don't listen to my git of a brother, 'Mione," Fred told her, deciding that Ron would be their unsuspecting guinea pig for a few weeks, until he'd apologized to Hermione. "He's only jealous that he didn't get to go with such a beautiful witch and Krum did." Fred didn't add that he was jealous, too. "Want to dance?" He stood, offering his hand to her. She took it and he helped her up, leading her gleefully onto the dance floor. Eventually, she was laughing harder then Angelina had been, and with far less effort on his part.

_Or was it me who caught you?_

A presence over Hermione's shoulder startled her from her studying in the library. She whipped around, fighting the urge to pull her wand out of her pocket. "Oh, er… Hello," She said, to the man standing behind her, trying to sound pleasant. "Hello," He replied, in a heavy Bulgarian accent. "I am Viktor Krum." "I know," she replied, "Er… I saw you at the Quidditch world cup." "Und vhat did you tink?" He asked her, sounding genuinely curious. "I think it was brilliant. That, er… Wonky Feint thing was brilliant!" Krum chuckled. "Vell, I am glad that you tink so." She smiled at him and then, belatedly, realized she hadn't told him her name. "I'm Hermione," She said, holding her hand out to him. He raised it to his lips, and said, "A plessure, Hermy-own-ninny. Vould you do me the plessure of attending the Yule Ball vith me?" "Oh… er.. Sure!" She beamed. "I haff been coming here for a vhile… trying to, vhat is it, pluck up the courage? To ask you, and I am glad that you haff agreed, Hermy-own-ninny." He said, and left. The usual twittering group of girls that followed him around had gathered into a large group by the entrance, and shot murderous glances at her when she left the library.

"Why don't you go and find Vicky, he'll be wondering where you are," said Ron. "Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione shouted, close to tears. She ran away, making it all the way to the stairs before bursting into tears. "'Mione? What's wrong?" Fred's voice, surprisingly close to her, asked. She heard him sit, and before she knew what she was doing, she had thrown her arms around him and was crying into his shoulder. "R-Ron… h-he accused me of fr-fraternizing with the enemy…" she choked out, feeling sort of foolish for revealing this to Fred. "I-I only went with Krum because he asked… He was s-so nice to me in the li-library and he's really quite k-kind…" She was babbling. Fred's hands tightened around her waist gently, and she suddenly felt very safe. "Don't worry about my git of a brother, 'Mione," he told her, and she looked up at him through her tears, "He's only jealous that he didn't get to go with such a beautiful witch and Krum did." His fingers tightened slightly before relaxing. He stood and offered his hand to her. "Want to dance?" She surprised herself by reaching out to him, and allowing herself to be led onto the dance floor. Fred danced so outlandishly that she couldn't help but laugh, and soon all thoughts of her argument with Ron had been brushed aside.


	6. Lacewings

__**A/N: wow, this is a REALLY long one. I sort of got carried away with the story, and it's not even a romantic one. Blah. I hope it didn't drag on too long, and that it's still entertaining even though I ended up repeating a sizable amount of dialogue.**

**Thanks to iLoveRomance2o11 for reviewing _again._ It means a lot that you take the time to tell me what you think of every chapter.  
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**Again, I remind you that suggestions and requests are welcome. Please enjoy the latest story. (It's too long to even attempt to call a drabble at this point.)  
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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

Lazily, Hermione flipped a page in _Hogwarts, A History_, the book she had decided to bring with her to the Burrow for the Christmas holidays. She was sitting sideways on the couch, one knee drawn up to her chest and the other dangling over the side, swinging gently. The crackling fireplace and the gentle laughter of her friends were immensely relaxing, and Hermione felt quite at peace. Mrs Weasley bustled in from the kitchen with a large silver tray, heavily laden with tea, cups, saucers, and various cakes. Everyone grabbed one of the mismatched sets of cups and saucers, Hermione ended up with a light blue flowered cup and a green saucer. Mrs Weasley bent to pour tea in her cup just as the fireplace glowed green and Fred tumbled from it, landing ungracefully on the hearth. Mrs Weasley spilled tea everywhere, (Hermione used a quick scourgify charm to mop it up) and then George came tumbling through the fireplace after his brother. "Geroffme," Fred's muffled voice said (George had landed on top of his twin), and George scrambled to get up, grinning at Harry and winking at Hermione. Fred also got to his feet, socked his brother's arm, and then shot a grin and a wink to Harry and Hermione. "Hello, boys," Mrs Weasley said, enveloping them in a hug, "Have you come for tea?" "No, mum," Fred said solemnly, "We've come to borrow a pair of Ron's socks." Hermione giggled. "Actually, we've come to borrow Hermione," George said, and Hermione, shocked, stopped giggling. "We need her potions expertise," Fred added, "but we promise to bring her back in time for supper," George finished. "So, how about it, Granger? Fancy helping some blokes in a right bind?" Fred turned to her, and offered his hand. She glanced around at Harry, who shrugged at her, and Ron who wasn't paying attention. "Oh, all right, then," she sighed, standing up without Fred's assistance. George grabbed some floo powder from the mantle and tossed it in the merrily crackling fireplace, then invited Hermione forward. "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," She said as clearly as she could, and stepped into the emerald flames.

Seconds later, she fell through the fireplace into the back room of Fred and George's shop. Hurriedly, she stood up, brushing the soot from her clothes as she got out of the way of the fireplace. Moments later, a whooshing sound and a thump let her know that one of the twins had arrived, followed closely by another whoosh and thump. "Geroffme!" Fred's voice, muffled, shouted from below his twin, again. Hermione watched, amused, as they scuffled on the floor a bit, she could just imagine them doing the same thing when they were younger. When it was clear that Fred had won (having pinned his brother down with his elbow), the twins scrambled to their feet, faces flushed and grinning. "What did you want my help with?" She asked, looking around the back room of their store interestedly. An empty cauldron stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by bottles of potion ingredients and an overturned stool. The rest of the back room mainly consisted of shelf after shelf of products, organized neatly by name. A table took up the back left corner of the room, directly across from the fireplace. The battered surface was covered in scorch marks, and a box full of something Hermione couldn't identify was lying on it as well. "Our new product," George said from her left, "Still in the testing phase, though," Fred added. George nodded, "There are still a few ah… unpleasant side effects we haven't managed to get rid of." Hermione wrinkled her nose and turned away from the table. "Actually, we wanted your opinion on this potion we're trying to make," Fred motioned to the cauldron. Hermione inched over and peeked inside. "It's empty," she called out, her voice echoing back to her. "I know," Fred said irritably, "I've messed it up three times in the last two hours and had to start over. That's why I want your help. Georgie's rubbish at potions, anyway," George made an indignant noise from somewhere behind her, "So, I came to my favourite bookworm." "I'm going to work on these," George motioned to the box on the table, "Since I'm so rubbish at potions." "Only joking, Gred," Fred lobbed an empty bottle at him, "Could you get me some more powdered mandrake root?" "Right-o, Forge," George grinned and disapparated with a crack.

"So… What's the problem?" Hermione asked, "And, what are you trying to make?" "Er… I thought maybe I'd just brew it and sort of… show you what's happening. It's a new potion I'm inventing for the store. Hopefully it's going to work a bit like Liquid Luck," "Felix Felicis?" "That's the one," Fred winked, "But it'll only make the user feel more confident. Sort of a fun thing to put in a chum's drink at a party," he explained. A crack signalled the return of George, and Fred caught the bottle that was thrown at him with a careless twitch of his arm. "Shall I get started then?" Fred asked, conjuring another stool for Hermione to sit beside him. She nodded, and he waved his wand to fill the cauldron with water. Hermione lit the flame beneath it with her own wand, and he reached for the first bottle. She watched him work for almost half an hour, interjecting every now and then with a suggestion. He would glance appreciatively at her before returning his focus to the cauldron. "There, look!" He said, twenty-five minutes after they had begun. "It's not supposed to be that colour." Hermione had to agree, as the potion turned a muddy brown and began to smoke. With a sigh, Fred waved his wand, emptying the cauldron of its contents. "Any ideas, Granger?" "Er… Did you add lacewings?" "Yeah, why?" "I think you should try stirring counter-clockwise every fifth stir once the lacewings have been added." Fred filled the Cauldron again, and Hermione watched for another twenty-five minutes as Fred re-brewed the potion. The potion turned a light blue this time instead of brown. Fred looked joyous and added the last few ingredients, turning the potion a light gold before extinguishing the flames and letting the potion cool. "You did it!" He shouted, picking her up and spinning her around. Bewildered, Hermione patted him awkwardly on the back. "Er… No problem." "He's been trying to get it to work for the last week," George chortled from his corner. "Almost done, Gred?" Fred asked cheekily, still holding Hermione in the air. "Fred?" She mumbled, "C-could you let me down?" He chuckled and set her on her feet, ruffling her hair affectionately. "It's almost time for supper, Gred," He called to his twin, "And we promised to have Hermione back by then." "N-no, we still have a little time. Here, let me see if I can help you, George," Hermione said, making her way to the table and pulling out her wand. Twenty minutes later, George's project was finished, too.

_Or was it me who caught you?_

The potion bubbled merrily, light pink and smooth, like it was supposed to. Fred stirred it exactly four times and reached for the bottle of lacewings. He carefully measured them and added them to his potion, stirring until it turned the right colour. He added the last of his powdered mandrake root and stirred again. The potion turned brown, and began to smoke. "Bloody Hell!" He shouted, standing up and tipping over the stool he had been sitting on. He waved his wand irritably and emptied the cauldron for the third time that morning. George looked up from the table where he was working, his wand-tip glowing. "You know what we need, Freddie? Granger." Fred stopped short. "You know what, Forge, that could be the best idea you've had all day!" George scoffed, "I have all the good ideas." "That means I have all the good looks," Fred replied, grinning at his brother. "Speaking of good ideas," He glanced out the window at the near-blizzard that had been going on all day, "I fancy using the floo network so we don't have to walk half a mile in the snow." "Let's get a move on then… We might be able to pop in just in time for tea," George laughed, putting his wand away.

Moments later, Fred came tumbling through the fireplace and into the Burrow. As he had suspected, his mum was in the process of pouring tea for Hermione, and had spilled it all over the table. "Wicked," he murmured to himself, just before a rather large weight landed on him, squashing him flat. His brother had come just a little bit too quickly, and had come to a halt right on top of Fred. "Get off me," He shouted, but it sounded muffled and more like, "Geroffme!" Sighing, he pushed George off, who was already in the process of standing up, before getting to his feet. He socked his brother in the arm, who just grinned merrily at him, sent his own grin to Harry, and winked at Hermione. His mum, who appeared to have recovered from spilling tea on the table, hurried over to them. "Hello, boys!" She hugged them, "Have you come for tea?" feeing a bit exasperated, he said in mock-solemnity, "no, mum, we've come to borrow a pair of Ron's socks." Laughter. "Actually, we've come to borrow Hermione," George said. "We need her potions expertise," Fred added, "But we promise to bring her back in time for supper," George finished. "So how about it, Granger? Fancy helping some blokes in a right bind?" He offered the girl his hand, but she didn't take it. "Oh, all right then," She sighed, closing her book. Hermione went through the fireplace first, and, after chucking a bit of parchment off the floor towards Ron, Fred followed.

Fred really didn't understand how he always ended up getting squished by his brother, who always, always followed too quickly through the floo network. In a fit of frustration, Fred had begun tussling with his twin, who, though confused at first, took to it with the same enthusiasm they had as boys. Eventually, Fred managed to pin George with his elbow in a very lucky manoeuvre, escaping with only a few bruises. Laughing, his frustration at the morning's wasted work gone, Fred scrambled to his feet. Hermione was examining the room, gazing at the cauldron and the shelves with interest. "What did you want my help with?" She asked, now approaching George's table gingerly, and peering at the box. "Our latest product," George informed her. "Still in the testing phase, though," Fred added. George nodded, "There are still a few ah… unpleasant side effects we haven't managed to get rid of." Hermione wrinkled her nose and turned away from the table. "Actually, we wanted your opinion on this potion we're trying to make," Fred motioned to the cauldron. Hermione informed them that it was empty, her voice echoing as though to prove her point. "I know," Fred's irritation was returning, "I've messed it up three times in the last two hours and had to start over. That's why I want your help. Georgie's rubbish at potions anyway," George spluttered indignantly, "So I came to my favourite bookworm." She looked pleased by the compliment. "I'm going to work on these," George motioned to the product still on the table, "Since I'm so rubbish at potions," He winked quickly at Fred, who remembered that he'd used the last of the powdered mandrake root. "Only joking, Gred," He lobbed the empty bottle at his twin, "Could you get me some more powdered mandrake root?" "Right-o, Forge," George answered cheerily, disapparating with a crack.

"So… What's the problem?" Hermione sounded generally interested, "and what are you trying to make?" Fred explained their new product to her, remembering to himself how George and he had thought of it- all the confidence of alcohol without the consequence the morning after. It had been George's idea, and Fred's potion skills that created the first batch. They had both been under the influence of firewhiskey at the time, of course, and Fred had been unable to recreate it again the next morning, or any of the following mornings, for that matter. He had been trying to make it for a week now, without success. Hermione knew, of course, what liquid luck was, and she seemed impressed that they had been able to come up with the idea. Once George had returned, lobbed the fresh bottle back to Fred, and returned to his table, Fred turned to Hermione, conjured her a stool, and asked, "Shall I get started, then?" She took the seat, and he filled the cauldron with water. She set the flame beneath it, and he lost himself in the magic that potion making had always held for him. Every now and then, Hermione would offer up a suggestion, in a quiet, unassuming sort of way that he didn't think her capable of. He accepted her suggestions without question, and he thought maybe she'd fix the problem without seeing exactly what the problem was. Indeed, the potion was a rosier shade of pink then he'd ever seen it. He reached for the lacewings, hoping that this time everything would work out. He stirred the potion, and it looked fine- Pearlescent green and bubbling merrily. Exhaling slowly, he reached for the mandrake root, measuring it swiftly before pouring it in and stirring the required four times. He almost cursed as it turned the same muddy brown colour. "There, look! It's not supposed to turn that colour." He waved his wand and emptied the cauldron for the fourth time, before turning to Hermione. "Any ideas, Granger?" "Er… did you add lacewings?" "Yeah, why?" was he missing something to do with lacewings? "I think you should try stirring counter-clockwise after every fifth stir once the lacewings have been added." Well, it couldn't hurt to try, could it? He filled the cauldron a fifth time and set about re-making his potion. Heeding her advice, he added a counter-clockwise stir after the lacewings had been added, and to his delight it turned blue instead of brown after adding the mandrake root. He quickly added the last few ingredients and the potion turned light gold, just the way he remembered it. He put out the flame and rushed over to Hermione, unable to resist picking her up and spinning her around joyously. "You did it!" He said, happily. "Er… no problem," She patted his back while George informed her, "He's been trying to get that to work for the last week." "Almost done, Gred?" Fred asked his twin, smiling innocently. "Fred?" Hermione asked, "C-could you let me down?" Fred had forgotten he was still holding her, and let her down gently. He couldn't help but to ruffle her hair in an affectionate sort of way. "It's almost supper time, Gred," He called out, "And we promised to have her back by then." Hermione surprised him by offering to help George with his project, and when she turned her back, Fred pocketed a small vial of the light-gold potion. This was going to be a very, very fun Christmas dinner.


	7. Snowflakes

**A/N: As suggested by iLoveRomance2o11: A sequel to Lacewings, in which the potion is used to get Hermione. I hope it turned out the way you wanted it to!  
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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

As Fred had suspected, the Weasley family Christmas dinner was very, very fun. He, George, and Hermione had returned just as Mrs Weasley was putting the finishing touches on a large Yorkshire pudding. George, of course, followed too quickly through the fire, and ended up on top of Fred, who accidentally knocked into Hermione. The three of them ended up on the ground, a tangle of long limbs and ginger and brown hair. Hermione was blushing bright red, and Fred found himself liking the colour it brought to her face. Eventually, they all three managed to find their feet, and George hopped off to "Help mum with supper." Ron looked murderously at Fred, clearly not thinking about 'Lav-Lav'. Fred picked up Hermione's book and handed it to her, chucking to himself when she gave a soft sigh and pulled it into her chest, as though it was an old friend. His mum called from the kitchen that supper was ready, and with a small sigh, Hermione laid her book down again. Fred ended up sandwiched between George and Hermione, on the same end of the table as Bill, Fleur, and Charlie, as well as his dad, Lupin, and Tonks. Hermione's elbow brushed his every now and then, and Fred decided he liked the way it felt. George kept glancing at him and waggling his eyebrows, which thoroughly confused Fred. "Eggnog, brother mine?" George asked him, tipping some into his cup. Fred sniffed it gingerly before taking a big drink. "I hope there isn't anything _else_ in that eggnog, George," His mum called from down the table. George shrugged noncommittally before returning to his discussion about Quidditch with Bill. "How are things at the store, Fred?" Charlie asked from across the table, "I hear you've got some great stuff." "We've just perfected two new products this afternoon," Fred told him proudly, "You'll have to come by and see the shop before you go back to Romania." Charlie agreed heartily, and Fred continued, "How are things with the dragons, eh? Found a girl yet? Done any quality snogging?" Charlie laughed, and his mum, who had, unfortunately, heard him, said, "Fred!" "Only joking, mum," He told her, before turning back to Charlie. "Well?" Charlie shrugged, "Been keeping busy with the dragons, and they're not much for snogging." Fred laughed aloud, and Hermione's elbow brushed his again, sending a pleasant tingling sensation up Fred's arm. He decided that he should inform her just how his elbow felt when she brushed it. After dessert, of course- his mum had made a spectacular arrangement of pies, and Fred wanted to put some of his newly made potion into the custard one. His mum stood and cleared the plates with a wave of her wand before bustling over to get the pies. Fred jumped up to help, reaching in his cloak pocket to find his little vial missing. Glumly, Fred levitated the potion-less custard pie on to the table before returning to his seat. Once he had finished trying every variety of pie his mum had made, Fred turned to Hermione and asked loudly, "Fancy a walk?" She looked surprised. "Er… sure, Fred, that sounds…. Lovely." George choked on a bite of his pie and Fred thumped him on the back enthusiastically. "All right, there, Georgie?" Still coughing, George nodded. "Right then, shall we, Granger?" She stood and took his proffered arm, allowing him to lead her out of the dining room. "What's up with Freddie?" He heard Bill ask, and George sniggered. Shrugging, Fred led Hermione to Ginny's room, where she grabbed a cloak, mittens, and a hat. He stopped off at his and George's old room, rummaging around until he found an old cloak from his days at Hogwarts, one of Ron's Chudley Cannons hats that George had nicked from his room for fun, and a pair of green mittens. They left the house, walking slowly away from the house. It was snowing, huge soft flakes that stuck to Fred's eyelashes, and Hermione's, too. Fred stuck his tongue out, trying to catch a few flakes. He spun around, swinging his arms in a circle. He snaked out a hand and snagged Hermione's arm, pulling her along. She laughed, and Fred thought it was a beautiful sound. He fell backwards, suddenly dizzy, into a snowdrift. Hermione squeaked, and he realized belatedly that he was still holding on to her arm. He let go of her, but not before she had also toppled into the snow beside him. She scrambled to her feet, the snow now clinging to her cloak and hat. He stood up too, and they kept walking. Finally, they stopped by a tree, the branches bare and white. "Hermione," He said, "I have something to tell you." "Um… Y-yes, Fred?" She said softly. "You look really beautiful tonight." "Thank you," She murmured, even more quietly. "I really fancy you, you know." He lowered his voice, trying to sound husky. She blinked, her hand feeling around behind her until it closed around a branch, which she clutched for support. "Look, if this is a joke, it's not funny," She told him. He leaned even closer to her, took her face in his hands, and brought it up to his face, meeting her lips gently with his own. "It's not a joke," He whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. She tilted her head up and kissed him, before whispering, "I… I fancy you, too, Fred." "Brilliant!" He smiled, taking her hand. "Let's go rub it in Ickle Ronniekins' face!" She looked shocked, but stayed silent. They made much better time getting back to the Burrow, the biting cold and the promise of a warm fire quickening their footsteps. Fred pulled Hermione on to the love seat beside him, and she relaxed into his side. George walked in, saw them, and let out a whoop. "I guess it worked, Freddie!" Fred narrowed his eyes, "What worked, Forge?" George pulled a tiny, empty bottle from his pocket. "Er… your potion?" He tossed it at Fred. "I knew all you needed was a little… confidence," "You knew?" George scoffed. "'Course I knew, mate, I'm your twin." "Oh." "In fact, I'd be surprised if everyone but 'Mione here knew. You're not very subtle, especially after a few firewhiskies." "Well, she knows now, too," Fred said, kissing the top of Hermione's head, "And I'd say the potion's a huge success."

_Or was it me who caught you?_

The Weasley's living room was warm when Hermione returned from Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. She took a deep breath, and got out of the way of the hearth. Fred came next, and managed to almost get to his feet before George came flying out of the flames and knocking into him. Fred, for his part, managed to knock Hermione over, and she ended up somewhere in the middle of the two boys. Hermione tried to force her way out of the pile, but Fred's (or was it George's?) leg was twisted around hers and if she moved her leg, the twin breathed in sharply, as though it hurt. Eventually, they all managed to extract themselves from the tangle, Hermione's face warm, and her patience with the twins quite frayed. Fred made up for it, though, by handing her back her copy of _Hogwarts, a History_. She sighed happily and hugged the battered book, fully appreciating the way it smelled faintly of Fred, even though he'd only touched it long enough to hand it to her. Just then, Mrs Weasley announced supper, and Hermione had to put her book down again. She was situated between Fred and Ron, and kept getting brought into Ginny's heated conversation with Mrs Weasley and, occasionally, Ron. Fred was talking loudly with Charlie, prompting a stern, "Fred!" From his mum. Hermione chuckled briefly before having her attention reclaimed by a question from Ginny about her O.W.L.'s. Desert passed unceremoniously, Hermione stuffed herself with pie, and Ginny and Mrs Weasley kept peppering her with questions. "Fancy a walk?" Fred asked Hermione, once she had finished as much pie as she could eat. She looked up, startled, from her conversation, stopping halfway through an answer. "Er… sure, Fred, That sounds…" She searched for a second for the right word, "lovely." Fred had been acting more boisterous then usual at the table, and Hermione had a feeling it was because of something George did. "Right then, shall we, Granger?" Fred offered her his arm, and she took it, liking the pleasant way it felt, and the way he smelled, standing that close to her. He led her to Ginny's room so she could grab her Hogwarts cloak, mittens, and hat, all embroidered with the Gryffindor house crest. Fred stopped by his old room, too, and came out in a hat that clashed horribly with his hair and look vaguely familiar, a Hogwarts cloak, and some plain gloves. They headed out into the snow, both walking slowly. Hermione watched the flakes fall, poking her tongue out to catch one that floated close to her face. She nearly bit her tongue when Fred grabbed her arm and started spinning her around, going faster and faster until he fell backwards. He was, unfortunately, still holding her arm, and she squeaked with shock, as the ground was suddenly not below her feet anymore. Fred released her arm, and she landed in a rather deep drift of snow. She had to squirm around a bit before she could get her feet under her again. She stood up, now covered in snow. Fred joined her quickly, and they continued walking. Fred stopped and Hermione looked up into the branches of a snow-covered tree. "Hermione," Fred said, his voice low, "I have something to tell you." Suddenly a bit nervous, she stammered a bit. "Um… Y-yes, Fred?" "You look really beautiful tonight." She felt her cheeks warm. "Thank you," She mumbled, her voice soft. "I really fancy you, you know." Hermione was shocked. She had fancied Fred for years, but he had never seemed to pay her much attention. And now, to find out that he fancied her… _he _fancied _her!_ Suddenly, she remembered Fred's boisterousness at dinner and her suspicion of George's involvement. She thought maybe it was all a joke they'd cooked up, and her hand reached out behind her, looking for something to hold her steady. IT closed around a branch as she tried to keep her voice firm, "Look, if this is a joke, it's not funny." His face was awfully close to hers now. He smelled like all of Hermione's favourite things. Suddenly, her mind went blank as his lips met hers, and she thought maybe it wasn't a joke after all. "It's not a joke," Fred told her, his forehead touching hers. In a sudden burst of courage, she tilted her head and kissed him back. "I… I fancy you, too, Fred," she whispered. "Brilliant!" He sounded happy, and held her hand. "Let's go rub it in Ickle Ronniekins' face!" Hermione decided it would probably be better not to say anything at all. Fred led her to the fireplace when the got back, though, and she happily curled up into his side on the love seat. George walked in, grinned at them, and let out a loud whooping sound. "I guess it worked, Freddie!" Hermione's eyes widened, "What worked, Forge?" Fred asked, his eyes narrowed at his twin. "George produced a bottle from his pocket. "Er… your potion?" he threw it to Fred. Fred didn't seem upset. "I knew all you needed was a little… confidence," "You knew?" George sounded indignant. "'Course I knew, mate, I'm your twin." "Oh." "In fact, I'd be surprised if everyone but 'Mione here knew. You're not very subtle, especially after a few firewhiskies." Hermione stifled a laugh. "Well, she knows now, too," Fred said, kissing the top of her head, "And I'd say the potion's a huge success." Hermione smiled, thinking that she had known all along that George was up to something.


	8. Broken Noses

__**A/N: I took the day off yesterday, because it was Easter and I wanted to. **

**Thanks to iLoveRomance2o11 for reviewing again. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I thought it would be sort of clever to have Fred inadvertently use the potion to get Hermione, and who better to deliver it then George? **

**This one's sort of.. angst-y, which sort of surprised me. It's still cute, though. Also, I made Ron out to be such a prick! oops. **

**Suggestions and requests welcome.**

** Enjoy :)  
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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

Fred was in a pretty good mood today. He had done fairly well in Charms, pulled a great prank on Filch, and managed to convince three people that he was an Animagus with the use of a cleverly placed passageway and Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. The sun was out, Angelina had scheduled Quidditch practise, and he had just eaten a big lunch. Yes, Fred decided, heading out of the Great Hall, he was definitely in a good mood. George, by contrast, was not enjoying the nice weather, or the lunch they had just eaten. He was in a sour mood because he had just seen Angelina, who he currently fancied, holding hands with a seventh year whose name Fred didn't know. He glowered out the window at the sun, as though it had been the sun's idea that he fancy Angelina in the first place. "It was bound to happen, mate," Fred told him, "You should have just asked her out to Hogsmeade when you had the chance." George didn't answer. "Ask her about him at Quidditch practise." Now George looked at him, and scoffed. "You're battier then old Trelawney if you think she'll talk to me about the blokes she's been snogging, or that I'd even want to hear about it." "I'll ask her if you like. I'll even pretend to be you." George cracked a grin. "She'll be able to tell the difference. I'm the handsomer twin, anyway." "Then use your dashing good looks to steal her away from that bloke she's seeing now," Fred thumped his twin on the back. "We're going to be late for Quidditch," Fred announced. "Again," George added, and they laughed. They approached the Fat Lady's portrait, exchanging jokes and ideas for new pranks. Before they could give her the password, she swung open on her hinges, and a crying Hermione ran out, bumping Fred's arm as she went. Glancing at each other, Fred and George entered the portrait hole slowly, wary of what they'd find on the other side. Ron was standing in the centre of the common room, his face very red. People were staring at him and the portrait hole Hermione had emerged from. A nervous babble broke out as the twins entered; a few students exchanged sidelong glances before returning to their books. Fred's good mood evaporated as he watched Ron's face change from angry to sort of happy. George, catching on to his twin's frustration, said, "I'll... Er… just go get our brooms, then," and nearly ran up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Fred watched him a moment before rounding on Ron, who now looked positively smug. Gritting his teeth, he asked, "What was that about?" Ron, for his part, looked chagrined. "We got into a row about schoolwork," he said, confusing Fred. "Then why did Hermione run off crying?" Ron shrugged. "I'm not sure. She just started wailing, and telling me how I'm 'the worst'," He lowered his voice and added, "She's bloody mental, I tell you." Fred was seized by the desire to punch his brother. "Hermione wouldn't start crying for no reason." Ron shrugged, "Why does it matter, anyway? She'll be back talking to me in a couple days." Fred clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "Prat," he said, turning away. "What did you say?" Ron also sounded angry. "I said, you're a great bloody prat. You made Hermione cry and you don't even remember what you said to hurt her feelings." Fred was shaking with anger now. "It's no wonder you've never gone steady with anyone. You're just an insensitive prat." George emerged from their dormitory, both broomsticks over his shoulders. "Ready, Freddie?" Fred closed his eyes, trying to shake the urge to curse or punch his brother, but the memory of Hermione running from the common room in tears pushed him over the edge. He pulled his arm back, hand clenched firmly in a fist. He swung forward and made contact squarely with Ron's nose, which broke beneath his fist. Ron howled with pain just as a stern voice called, "Mr Weasley! What is the meaning of this?" "He punched me," Ron told her, holding his nose in both hands and trying to stem the bleeding. "To the Hospital wing with you, Mr Weasley. Mr… Er… Weasley. You will kindly explain yourself." She turned to George. "I believe you have Quidditch Practise, Mr Weasley." George shot Fred a sympathetic glance before leaving the Common room. "My prat of a brother made Hermione Granger cry for the third time this week. I argued with him, and then I punched him." Hermione came up behind Professor McGonagall just as he finished, her cheeks stained with tears. "Professor, what happened to Ron? Fred, what-" "Mr Weasley, I advise you in future not to pick fights with your brother. You will report to me at six o'clock every day for the next week for your detentions, and I shall be taking twenty points from Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall interrupted her before sweeping off. "Fred, why did you get in a fight with Ron?" Fred heaved a sigh, "Because he made you cry for the third time this week and he didn't care. I punched him." Hermione's eyes widened, and she said breathlessly, "You… You punched your brother… over _me_?" Fred nodded, "He was being a prat anyway." She smiled, "Er… I have to go to Quidditch practise now. Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade next trip?" She nodded shyly, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Fred," She whispered, "Thanks for standing up for me."

_Or was it me who caught you?_

Hermione was having another fight with Ron. They had been bickering a lot recently, but this week had been worse then usual. She had found herself crying in the loo twice already, and the week was only half through. Today, Hermione had been trying to explain to Ron the difference between shredded and powdered boomslang skin for his potions essay- a harmless enough topic on a normal day. Ron had snapped something about her being a know-it-all, and Hermione had said she would stop helping him revise his essay. Ron had begun shouting at her. "Ron, people are staring," she said, trying to get him to stop. "So what? It's not as though any of them care about you!" "How dare you, Ronald!" she felt the tears coming again. "It's true. Harry, Neville and me are the only ones who put up with you," he spat, crossing his arms at her, "So go ahead, run to the library, _alone_!" "Y-you're just the worst, most insensitive…!" She was so upset that she couldn't finish her sentence, the tears flowing hot and fast down her cheeks. Spinning on her heel, she ran for the portrait hole, trying to hold back the tears unsuccessfully. She didn't stop to apologize to Fred when she bumped into him, too upset to want to see another ginger head looking down at her, even if Fred looked and acted nothing like his youngest brother. She contemplated this as she sat in the loo, her tears stopping quickly now that she was far away from the common room. Fred was never mean to her, and he never argued with her about silly things. He seemed impressed with her knowledge, and kept trying to get her opinion on the products he and his brother created. She refused, of course, but it was flattering to know he respected her opinion. She didn't think that Fred and George just 'put up with her'. Feeling substantially cheered, Hermione decided she really should apologize to Fred for bumping into him, and then maybe she could watch Quidditch practise for a while before helping Harry revise his potions essay. As she walked up the Grand Staircase toward the seventh floor, Ron came running the opposite direction, clutching his face in his hands. Suddenly concerned, she picked up speed, running by the time she reached the Fat Lady's portrait. She gave the woman the password, and the picture swung forward to admit her. She walked over to Professor McGonagall, who was looking sternly at none other then Fred Weasley. "Professor, what happened to Ron?" She asked, before turning to Fred, "Fred, what-" "Mr Weasley, I advise you in future not to pick fights with your brother. You will report to me at six o'clock every day for the next week for your detentions, and I shall be taking twenty points from Gryffindor." Professor McGonagall gave her a tiny smile before sweeping from the room. "Fred, why did you get in a fight with Ron?" Fred heaved a sigh, "Because he made you cry for the third time this week and he didn't care. I punched him." Hermione's eyes widened, and she said breathlessly, "You… You punched your brother… over _me_?" Fred nodded, "He was being a prat anyway." She smiled, "Er… I have to go to Quidditch practise now. Would you like to go with me to Hogsmeade next trip?" She nodded, feeling shy. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "Fred," She whispered, "Thanks for standing up for me." "Anytime," he answered, kissing her cheek and walking from the common room. She stood for a moment, in awe at the very idea that he had taken her side over his own family, before hurrying out the portrait hole after him.


	9. A Proposal

**A/N: Sorry this took so long.. I don't have a reason for it, but at least it's here now. I did get a Pottermore, so that's exciting. Anyway, I hope the fact that it's nearly 3,000 words long sort of makes up for that. **

**Thank you to** **L00ve-Joanna and Iceprincess22454 for adding my drabble-thing to your Favorite Story list. **

**Thanks to iLoveRomance2o11 for your review. That's sort of eerie, that those events coincided in that way.** **And I offer a personal apology for not updating sooner, i hope you forgive me.**

**Enjoy!**_  
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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

The Ministry of Magic was full of activity today. Hermione sighed as the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, walked up to her. "Ms Granger," He inclined his head toward her. "Minister," She replied, feeling a bit put out by all the people walking up and down her usually deserted hall. "How are you getting on?" He asked her in his deep, comforting voice, glancing at her half-completed report. "Er… to tell you the truth, it's a bit… noisy today." She reached up and snagged the memo that had just begun soaring around her head. "I was wondering if I might be able to go home early. I don't think I'll be able to do much more on this until I can get a hold of the masters of the House-Elf that submitted this complaint, and they're off on vacation until next week." She glanced at the memo, a reminder from Ron that he was treating her and Harry to drinks after work today. "Of course, Ms Granger," he smiled kindly at her. "I have something to attend to in the Department of Mysteries. You will be called in if we need you. Have a nice day," He inclined his head at her again, turned, and swept away from her desk. She put the paper she had been revising into her desk, picked up her bag, and left her office. The hallway was, mercifully, nearly empty, and she reached the elevators quickly. People treated her, Harry, and Ron as celebrities after the second wizarding war. Harry, who had been receiving this sort of attention since his youth, was used to it, and Ron was enjoying his newfound fame, but Hermione didn't like the constant presence of people she didn't really know or like. She pressed the button that would take her to where Ron and Harry worked, and the doors slid shut. There were a few memos zooming around her head, and the elevator stopped a few times on the way to let the memos out. When she finally reached the Auror offices, she made her way quickly to Harry's cubicle. Harry was writing something on a piece of parchment. His raven hair was dishevelled and his glasses had slid down on his nose. He finished writing, attached the parchment to the wall of his cubicle, and turned to face her. "Oh, hi, 'Mione," he said, "What are you doing down here?" "Er… I've just seen Kingsley. He said I could leave early today," She explained. "Brilliant!" He smiled at her. "Let's go and get Ron, and then we'll go out for drinks." Hermione still didn't understand how the Auror's office worked. They could leave work whenever they wanted, and usually seemed to spend half their time talking to each other rather then working. She supposed it was a bit more relaxed, but her friends kept her schedule, so they could all go to the Burrow for supper together every night (a tradition started by Mrs Weasley after nearly losing many of the members of her family in the war). Once Harry and Hermione had collected Ron, they made their way to the atrium, where they lined up to take the floo network to Diagon Alley. People kept shaking their hands and offering to let them go ahead, and they reached the fireplace quickly.

A pair of strong arms caught Hermione as she fell from the flames. "Fancy meeting you here, love," Hermione got to her feet and turned to her boyfriend of several years, Fred Weasley. "Yeah, seeing as I invited you," she told him, slipping her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer to him. She leaned up to kiss him, and he smiled. "I missed you, too, 'Mione." "Get a room!" Ginny's voice called out from behind Fred. Harry emerged, coughing slightly, from the emerald flames, and hurried to embrace Ginny. She laughed, and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him enthusiastically. "**Who** needs a room?" Hermione said archly. Ginny's engagement ring sparkled on her finger as she tightened her arms around Harry. "Oi! I only agreed to pay for Harry and Hermione's drinks," Ron announced from behind Hermione, having arrived shortly after Harry. "You're paying for your own!" Hermione laughed. "You wound me, Ronnie," Fred clutched at his chest dramatically. Ron muttered darkly before rummaging in his pocket and pulling out enough galleons for five butterbeers. Tom, the elderly barkeep, helped him carry them over to the booth they had all crowded into. Fred draped his arm around her, and she leaned into his side, sighing contentedly. They swapped stories about work and Fred started a bet with Ginny and Ron about what their mum would make for supper. A few hours (and several butterbeers each) later, Ginny announced that she was going to go shopping. Fred said he needed to stop off at his shop, and then he would meet up with them to travel to the Burrow. Hermione wanted to go with Fred, hoping to do a bit of snogging, but he left without offering. Instead, she wandered along behind Ginny and Harry, talking to Ron.

Fred re-joined the group fifteen minutes later, as they were walking past Flourish & Blotts. He immediately reached for Hermione's hand, and cheerfully refused to tell her what he had gone back to his store for. Finally, when they had walked the entire length of Diagon Alley, they decided to apparate to the Burrow (or a point some six-hundred feet from it). Fred, still holding fast to her hand, whispered, "Hold on, love," before twisting on the spot and, with a crack, they disappeared. When Hermione opened her eyes again, she smiled at the familiar, slightly crooked house looming above her. As she watched, Charlie emerged from the house and jogged toward them, with George close on his heels. Bill and Fleur watched from the door, Bill's hand resting gently on Fleur's swollen stomach. Charlie let them around to the garden, were Mrs Weasley had set up the two battered old tables and was burying them in a mountain of food. "Mum!" Ron called out, as she emerged from the house levitating another large dish of food. She set it down, looked them over, proclaimed that Hermione was far too skinny, and then turned on Harry, standing behind her. "Harry dear, how are you?" She hugged him tightly. "Have you been eating enough? Has my daughter been cooking for you? I've just finished setting up supper," She motioned for him to sit. Hermione sank into a chair on Harry's left; Fred sat on her other side. Mrs Weasley fussed over him all the way through dessert and dished both her and Harry thirds on everything. Once everyone had finished, Hermione stood to help Mrs Weasley with the dishes, but Fred caught her arm and led her away from the table and across the garden. Dusk was falling, and there were fireflies everywhere darting around and casting a gentle glow over them. He led her to the pond on the other side of the garden from the two tables. "Er… Hermione," he sounded nervous, which surprised her. "I want to ask you something." "Yes, Fred?" "I… well, I love you. I've loved you for a very long time. I've, er, seen the way you look at Ginny and Harry, and how happy they are. I want to make you happy like that. And, er, I want to ask you," He cleared his throat and reached into his pocket. "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?" He pulled out an old velvet box, and opened it. "This belonged to my Great-Grandmother," He pulled the ring out, and held it delicately in his fingers, "And I can think of no better witch's hand for it to sit on then yours." Hermione was so overcome with emotion that all she could do was nod through her tears. He slid the ring on her finger and kissed her hand before moving to her lips. When they finally returned to the rest of the family, George was the first to approach. "Congratulations, Forge," he called out, throwing an arm around his twin's shoulders. Suddenly, they were surrounded by conversation on all sides. Everyone was either congratulating them or asking questions about the wedding. Hermione felt overwhelmed and a little put out, preferring to let Fred answer people's questions in his usual jovial manner. It was only later that night, when she was laying in his arms, that she had anything to say. "Fred?" she murmured, as he stroked her arm softly. "Yes, 'Mione?" "You had better not slip any of our guests Canary Crèmes." He laughed. "Whatever you say, love."

_Or was it me who caught you?_

Proposing marriage must be the most stressful event of all time. Fred Weasley certainly thought so. He and his twin were taking a lunch-break after a particularly stressful morning at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Fred had not eaten at all and instead paced nervously around the floor in the back room. "Calm down, mate," Fred looked up and into the eyes of his twin, who looked as though he was fighting laughter. "But what if she says no?" "Forge," George's voice was abruptly serious. "She won't. She's crazy about you, brother mine. Lucky bloke, you are." Fred's mood lightened considerably, and he marched back into the front of the store determinedly. The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, and he had personally sold three pygmy puffs, half a dozen boxes of Weasleys' Whiz-Bangs, and a portable swamp. He was interrupted midway through his sale of a love potion to a girl who looked suspiciously like she wanted to try using it on him by an owl that landed on his arm and thrust its beak into Fred's ear. He pulled the letter- a short one from Hermione that told him she had left work early- from the owl's leg, patted it on the head, and reached in his pocket for a spare owl treat. It hooted at him, snatched the treat, and flew off again. "Er... Sorry. I have to go. My fiancée is waiting for me." Fred motioned to George, who bounded over cheerfully, "But my brother George here will take care of you." Fred turned to George. "'Mione's waiting." George nodded, "Have fun, mate," He turned to the girl, who had watched Fred sadly through the entire exchange. "Bye, then," Fred said, without really looking at the girl again. He hurried down the street, excited to see his girlfriend of several years. Tom the elderly barkeeper, nodded cordially at him as he burst through the door. "The usual, Fred?" Fred never ceased to be amazed at the easy way the barkeep could tell him and his brother apart, even if they entered together. "Not right now, Tom. I'm waiting for 'Mione to show up." Tom nodded again and went back to wiping out the glass in his hand. After sinking into a chair by the fire beside Ginny, who had arrived before him and waved him over, Fred felt the pocket inside his coat where he kept his Great-Grandmother's ring, and then patted the pocket again. "Bloody…" He muttered, frustrated. The pocket was empty; He must have left the ring in his shop. He stood, hoping he had enough time to retrieve it before Hermione arrived. The fire in the fireplace turned a bright emerald, and the witch he had been dating for the last three years came tumbling out. He reached out and steadied her, holding her snugly in his arms. "Fancy meeting you here, love," He joked, helping her to her feet. "Yeah, seeing as I invited you." Hermione's arms slid around his neck, and he pulled her close to him, his arms fitting around her waist in a way he loved. She leaned into him and kissed him, and Fred smiled. "I missed you, too, 'Mione." "Get a room!" Ginny laughed from behind him, and Fred looked up in time to see Harry emerge from the flames before hurrying over to Ginny and pulling her into an embrace. Ginny laughed again and threw her arms around him, kissing him with enthusiasm. Fred opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione beat him to it. "**Who** needs a room?" She asked, and Fred nearly laughed aloud. He didn't miss the way Hermione's eyes lingered on the ring on Ginny's finger. "Oi!" Ron intoned from behind Harry, "I only agreed to pay for Harry and Hermione's drinks. You're paying for your own!" Hermione laughed and Fred, seizing the opportunity to tease his brother, clutched at his chest. "You wound me, Ronnie." Ron muttered a bit, but pulled out enough galleons to pay for Fred and Ginny, too. They found their way to a large booth in the corner, Ginny and Harry started snogging and Fred turned to Hermione hopefully. Ron, with the help of Tom, carried over some butterbeers, and Harry pulled away from Ginny, looking sort of reluctant. By the time they had each gotten through several rounds, Fred had heard more then he wanted to about Hermione's work, listened to Ron brag about apprehending some dark wizard (he suspected it wasn't nearly the conquest Ron described), and teased Harry for snogging his sister. He told them about the girl who wanted a love potion, (conveniently leaving out the part where he called Hermione his fiancée) which earned laughter. He then started a bet with Ginny and Ron about what his mum would cook for supper (He was betting she would cook all Harry's favourites). Ginny announced that she was going to go shopping and Fred saw his chance. "I have to get something at the shop," he told them, "But I'll meet up with you later to go to the Burrow." Fred walked away, wishing he could have invited Hermione; He would have enjoyed a little snogging.

Fred let himself in the front door of the shop just as George was closing up. George watched him curiously as he made his way up the stairs to the flat, but didn't ask any questions, and neither did Angelina, who was sitting on the front counter. Fred rummaged around in the living room; moving aside a blouse that he was fairly certain belonged to Angelina, and a pair of George's pants, that hadn't been there yesterday. He moved on to his bedroom, searching under his bed and in the pocket of his jeans. "Oh!" he scrambled to his feet. "Accio ring!" He couldn't _believe_ he hadn't thought of it earlier. The little velvet box zoomed from some corner of his room and into his hand. Heaving a sigh of relief, Fred hurried from the room and down the stairs to the shop. George, who was now snogging heavily with Angelina, didn't even look up at him. He wandered around, trying to find the group he had left behind, the ring weighing heavily in his pocket. He finally found them just outside Flourish & Blotts, and hurried to take Hermione's hand. She tried to find out what he had needed to get, and he, in very high spirits, refused to tell her. They continued down Diagon Alley, and all too soon they were apparating to the Burrow, and all of his brothers were surrounding them. His mum proclaimed Hermione too skinny (Fred thought she was perfect) and fussed over Harry throughout dinner and dessert. Fred, who felt the weight of the ring more heavily then ever, was quiet for once. After supper, Hermione stood up, probably to help his mum with dishes, and Fred seized his opportunity, as well as Hermione's arm. She allowed him to lead her away from the table, and he swallowed heavily, the ring felt like lead in his pocket. He led her to the other side of the garden, which was only lit by fireflies, "Er… Hermione," he said, extremely aware of how nervous he sounded. "I want to ask you something." "Yes, Fred?" "I… well, I love you. I've loved you for a very long time. I've, er, seen the way you look at Ginny and Harry, and how happy they are. I want to make you happy like that. And, er, I want to ask you," He reached into his pocket for the familiar box. "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?" He opened it. "This belonged to my Great-Grandmother," He pulled the ring out, and held it between his thumb and forefinger, "And I can think of no better witch's hand for it to sit on then yours." He watched her carefully for her reaction, and was surprised to see her crying. She nodded at him, so he slid the ring on her finger and kissed her hand. Then, feeling considerably more light-hearted, he kissed her enthusiastically.

When they returned, George, reading the emotion on Fred's face as only he could, threw his arm around Fred and promptly said, "Congratulations, Forge." The rest of his family surrounded them then, and asked question after question. Hermione looked overwhelmed so Fred took it upon himself to answer every question. He announced that he was going to be serving Canary Crèmes at the reception, and that the entertainment would, therefore, be watching people turn into birds, and then led the still-silent Hermione away from the crowds. He thought she hadn't heard that remark until later that night. He was holding her snugly and stroking her arm when she murmured, "Fred?" "Yes, 'Mione?" "You had better not slip any of our guests Canary Crèmes." He laughed, a little surprised. "Whatever you say, love."


	10. Crystal Inkpots

**A/N: Thanks to iLoveRomance2o11 for reviewing again, and for forgiving me for taking so long to post the last story. I hope you like this one as well, even though I think I repeated almost all the dialogue, again. -.-  
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**Again, all suggestions and requests are welcome.**

**Enjoy!  
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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

Fred didn't really care much for shopping, but he loved to watch Hermione as she shopped. She loved books and quills and fancy parchment, so he loved them, too. He had begun to make only short forays into Gambol & Japes and Quality Quidditch Supplies (The only two shops he had ever cared about before) for things that he needed. Even Tom the bartender didn't see much of him anymore. He did find himself in Flourish and Blotts more often then he had ever been in his life, buying books for Hermione and hiding them away. First, he put them in a box in the back room of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The box grew into two, and then into three. Pretty soon, he had more books then his back room could hold, so he bought a house to put them in, in the same neighbourhood that his parents lived in. Slowly, the books kept accumulating. He built shelves for all the books he collected, stacking them and organizing them neatly in the library of his new home. Every day after work, he would walk into Flourish and Blotts and buy the latest book. The owner knew who he was and always had the latest arrival on the counter for him. It was an expensive arrangement, but one that his (and his brother's) business could afford. They had recently bought Zonko's Joke Shop in Hogsmeade and were making more of a profit then ever, their bank vaults bursting. They had even started a small vault for their parents, giving a quarter of their earnings every year to the vault, and, though their parents refused to move from the simple home they owned, the Weasley family was no longer poor. Fred bought a large mahogany desk, and had it brought to his home. He bought reams of parchment, fancy quills, crystal inkpots, and every day he bought a new book. George teased him mercilessly for it, but even he admitted that Fred's library was impressive. Everyone thought his collection of books was magnificent- everyone except Hermione, from whom it was being kept a secret. Fred wanted it to be perfect before he showed her, and so, day-by-day, book-by-book he filled the shelves. Finally, exactly one year after he had begun (on September the 19th), the library was finished. The massive walls of stone were carved out with bookshelves, rolling ladders leant against every one, and every space on the shelves was full. There was fireplace, ready to be lit, and the desk he had picked out himself, standing magnificently in the centre of the room. There were several nooks, occupied by soft armchairs and small gas lanterns on tables. He imagined Hermione curled in one of the armchairs, reading, and smiled. It was finally time for Hermione to see her library. For that was the real reason Fred had spent the entire year creating this wonderful space- Hermione.

He sent an owl to her at work, asking her to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron. He knew she would, if not because they had been steadily dating for several years then because he had been uncharacteristically and purposely vague. As he suspected, she arrived through the floo network precisely on time. She stepped gracefully from the flames and into his waiting arms, where he kissed her quickly before she could ask the inevitable. "Fred Weasley, why did you ask me to meet you here today?" She asked it anyway, not three minutes later. "Because I wanted to see you on your birthday?" He grinned at her. "You would have just come to my flat," "'Do you doubt me, Mione?" He pretended to be hurt. Rolling her eyes, she replied, "I doubt that was your only motivation, Frederick." He grinned again. "Alright, you've got me there, Granger," She scowled and he kissed her quickly, "Now close your eyes." "What-" He placed a finger on her lips to silence her protest. "Just trust me." Slowly, she closed her eyes. He gripped her hand tightly, and twisted in place, disapparating with a crack. When they stopped moving, Hermione asked, "Can I open them yet?" "Nope," Fred replied cheerfully, leading her inside his home and through the corridors to her library. "Okay, now you can open them, but only to open the doors in front of you," He told her, and her eyes snapped open. "Frederick Weasley, if this is a joke…" She narrowed her eyes at him before glancing around curiously. "Where are we, anyway?" "I'll tell you in a minute. Go ahead, open the doors." She pulled open the heavy doors, and gasped audibly. "Fred, w-what…" She broke off and walked a few shaky steps forward. "W-what...?" She looked at him, her eyes wide. "Do you like it?" He asked her, grinning. "It's…. amazing!" She managed, before running over to the nearest bookshelf and snatching a book. "T-this is a first edition of Magical Herbs and Fungi…" She flipped through the pages rapidly. "That's not all," Fred told her as she slid the book back in its spot. "What else could there possibly be?" He guided her to the desk, and she gasped again. She stumbled forward and snatched the large tome off the centre of the desk. "This… how did… A hand-written, first-edition of Hogwarts: A History?" Fred smiled, but stayed silent. "Whose library is this?" She set the book down carefully. "Yours," Fred replied, "If you want it." "Fred…" He saw tears in her eyes. "You don't have to," He said quickly, taken aback. "N-no… it's just… this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." Fred smiled before pulling her into his arms and kissing her. "But…" she pulled away from him, "Where exactly are we?" "My house… Yours if you'd do me the honour. I bought it last year, for, well, for us, and the books I bought you." Hermione looked shocked. "Georgie teased me for ages," Fred chuckled. Hermione, who looked dangerously close to crying again, suddenly kissed him, standing on her toes to reach him. He smiled, "Happy Birthday, Love."

_Or was it me who caught you?_

Hermione's birthday had never been a spectacular affair. Even as a child they had been quiet, family-only parties. She was in the habit of not making a large fuss over her birthday, and today it seemed as though the world agreed with her habit. She has work at the Ministry and no plans for later. Last year, Fred had taken her to Flourish and Blotts and bought her as many books as she wanted, but he had become rather distant since then, disappearing for hours at a time without telling her where he went. She didn't expect that he would be around today, or even that he remembered what today was, so she was pleasantly surprised to receive a note from him. The barn owl that delivered it was particularly grumpy after having to wait several minutes for her to notice it, and pecked the back of her hand painfully. She offered it an owl treat in apology, which it snatched up quickly before hooting loudly and flying off. Rubbing the back of her hand absently, she opened the letter and scanned it. It was short, and asked that she please meet him at the Leaky Cauldron after work. She shook her head and returned to work. A few hours later, she stood up, collected her things in her small bag, and left her office. No one else had come to wish her happy birthday, and, in fact, there was nothing in her office that suggested today had been in any way special to her. A memo fluttered its way over to her when she reached the Atrium, and she snatched it, reading while she walked. Harry and Ron had written her to say happy birthday, and that they would see her tonight for supper at the Weasleys'. Smiling, she stepped into the flames and called, "The Leaky Cauldron." Mercifully, she emerged gracefully from the fire, and was immediately snatched up and kissed by Fred. When they finished, she asked, "Fred Weasley, why did you ask me to meet you here today?" "Because I wanted to see you on your birthday?" He grinned. "You would have just come to my flat," She informed him. "'Do you doubt me, Mione?" He asked, sounding hurt. Rolling her eyes, she replied tartly, "I doubt that was your only motivation, Frederick." He grinned again. "Alright, you've got me there, Granger," She scowled and he leant down to kiss her again, "Now close your eyes." "What-" She began, but he silenced her, laying his finger gently on her lips. "Just trust me." She, unwillingly, obeyed. His hand held hers tightly, rough and warm. He twisted them in place, disapparating with a crack. Sensing that they had stopped, She asked, "Can I open them yet?" "Nope," Fred replied, his voice cheerful. She followed where he led, trying to figure out where they were. He opened a door, and led her through a series of sharp turns before halting. "Okay, now you can open them, but only to open the doors in front of you," He told her, and her eyes snapped open. "Frederick Weasley, if this is a joke…" She narrowed her eyes at him, then glanced around, trying and failing to recognise anything. "Where are we, anyway?" "I'll tell you in a minute. Go ahead, open the doors." She pulled open the heavy doors and in to the most beautiful room she had ever seen. She gasped, completely stunned. "Fred, w-what…" She couldn't complete the thought. Stumbling forward, she tried again. "W-what...?" She looked at him, still completely shocked. "Do you like it?" He asked, still grinning. "It's…. amazing!" She managed, before running over to the nearest bookshelf. She saw a familiar green cover and pulled it from the shelf. "T-this is a first edition of Magical Herbs and Fungi…" She flipped through the pages of the priceless tome. "That's not all," Fred told her when she slid the book back in its spot. "What else could there possibly be?" Surely nothing could be better. He guided her around another corner and she gasped again. Still stumbling, she moved forward and snatched the large book off the centre of the desk. She would have recognised it anywhere. "This… how did… A hand-written, first-edition of Hogwarts: A History?" Fred was silent. Hermione realized something abruptly. "Whose library is this?" She set the book down carefully, not wanting to damage it in any way. "Yours," Fred replied, shocking her even further, "If you want it." "Fred…" She choked out, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. "You don't have to," He said quickly. "N-no… it's just… this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." Fred smiled, pulled her into his arms and kissed her sweetly. "But…" she pulled away, "Where exactly are we?" "My house… Yours if you'd do me the honour. I bought it last year, for, well, for us, and the books I bought you." Hermione realized with a jolt what had kept Fred away so often over the last year. "Georgie teased me for ages," Fred chuckled. Hermione, tears of happiness in her eyes again, moved forward and kissed him, standing on the very tips of her toes to reach him. He whispered, "Happy Birthday, Love," and kissed her again. "I would love to live here with you, Fred," She told him as they stood, their foreheads touching, beside the beautiful desk. "Would you like to see the rest?" Fred offered her an elbow. "I think…" She kissed him, "I'd like to…" She kissed him again, "Stay right here." She kissed him a third time. "Brilliant! I've never snogged in a library before," Fred grinned mischievously before kissing her in return. "Me neither," Hermione whispered, "But there's a first time for everything."


	11. Hogwarts Express

**A/N: I am officially off Hiatus. I just had too much going on at school to be able to juggle both writing and posting to fanfiction on a constant basis and maintaining my grades. Now that it's summer, though, I should be able to post with much more frequency. Thank you everyone for your patience while I was away, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
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**To: MadalaineMalfoy: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed them and I hope you continue to do so :)  
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**To: iLoveRomance2o11: I'm glad you enjoyed it! I think Fred would be a fabulous boyfriend, too :D  
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**To: jhieweL.16: Thanks for adding my little story to your favorite stories!  
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**To: voldyismyfather: Thanks for adding my story to your story alert!  
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><p>Was it you who caught me staring?<p>

"Hurry up, hurry up!" Mrs. Weasley shouted over the noise, bustling through the crowds and towards platform nine and three-quarters. Ron, Ginny, Harry, Hermione, Fred, and George, all of whom were pushing carts, followed her closely. They hurtled down the platform and toward the stone barrier that separated platforms nine and ten. Without missing a beat, the six young wizards slipped through the barrier after their mother, going unnoticed by the throngs of people crowding the station. Once they emerged beside the glistening scarlet steam engine that would take them to Hogwarts, their carts were taken and their things loaded for them. Mrs. Weasley said her tearful goodbyes and warned Fred and George to behave, then slid back through the barrier. Ginny spotted Dean Thomas and a few of her other friends, Harry and Ron went looking for a compartment, and George, after winking saucily at Hermione, sidled off to his left where Lee was standing. Fred looped his arms around Hermione's waist and puller her close to him, pressing his lips to hers. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the moment, feeling nothing but him, and her. The sound of the train's horn blaring loudly shocked them apart, and Hermione realized with a jolt that she was going to be late for her prefects' meeting. They jumped on board the train just as the conductor was issuing the last call, ignoring the wolf-whistles and catcalls they received from the students who'd been watching them. Once they were safely onboard, Fred pulled her to him again, pressing their lips together eagerly. This time, though, she pulled away. "I have to go to the prefects' meeting, Fred," She said apologetically, still pressed up against him, "And you've got to find George and Lee," She reminded him, trying to gather the will to leave Fred. Sighing, he released everything but her hand, and stepped backward a little. He raised her hand to his lips and, with a cheery smile and a wink, kissed it gently. Hermione was shocked by the gesture, and Fred suddenly looked frightened. "Should I not have done that? Dad said it's a muggle thing and I thought…" Hermione kissed him swiftly to silence him. "I think it was very sweet, Fred." He grinned cheekily, "Does this mean you'll stay longer?" "I can't, I'm already late. I promise I'll come find you as soon as I can, okay?" Fred nodded, looking morose. Hermione slipped away with one last kiss and hurried to the Prefect's compartment, nearly running into Ron outside the door. The two slipped into the room quietly and found the last empty seats. Ron leaned back, already looking bored, but Hermione leaned forward eagerly.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Ron and Hermione emerged from the compartment, having been tasked with patrolling the middle three cars of the train periodically. Ron yawned loudly, stretching his arms above his head. "Honestly, Ronald," Hermione snapped at him, "How could you fall asleep?" "I was tired," He mumbled, "'Sides, it's not that complicated." Hermione huffed in frustration and stormed off toward the rear of the train. "You start in that direction, Ron," she called over her shoulder. She reached the end of the three cars that she and Ron were supposed to be patrolling and turned around. The first thing that caught her eye was a flash of red from the compartment to her left. She glanced in and saw Ginny, snogging with Dean. Grimacing, she turned the other direction and saw another flash of red a few compartments up. She watched it for a moment before realizing with glee that is was two flashes of red. She hurried toward the compartment; her desire to see Fred propelling her along almost faster then her feet could carry her. She stopped in front of the door, heart pumping, and watched the two twins conversing quietly. She slipped the door open and slid inside just in time to hear George say, "Skiving Snackboxes." Smiling to herself, she spoke up, confident that the boys hadn't heard her enter. "You'd better not be skiving off anything important with those snackboxes." Fred's head snapped up, while George merely looked amused. A moment later Fred had picked her up off her feet and spun her around in a circle, kissing her the whole time. "I missed you too, Fred." She leaned up to kiss him quickly. "I'm supposed to be making rounds of the compartments. I just thought I'd check on yours first. After all, you're the troublemakers." Fred looked offended, throwing his hand over his heart dramatically and sniffing loudly. "Well miss Prefect, I'll have you know that my girlfriend happens to be quite well-behaved. She's also the smartest student at Hogwarts and bloody hot," Hermione felt her face warm as Fred spoke, and he smiled lopsidedly at her when he noticed. George laughed behind her, "But thanks for the complement." Fred pulled her toward him until she was flat against his chest. "Can't you just stay here with me?" Hermione, though she wished she could have stayed, pulled pack gently. "Fred, it had only been twenty minutes since we boarded the train. You will be fine for another ten while I make my rounds." Fred released his hold on her, but kept their hands intertwined.. He ran his free hand through his hair and she heard him mutter, "Twenty minutes too long." "Frederick Gideon Weasley," She said in her best Professor McGonagall impression, before smiling at him fondly, "I love you." She kissed him, still smiling, "I'll see you soon." She slid her hand out of his, spun on her heel, and before she could change her mind and stay, she left his compartment, shutting the door behind her.

Or was it me who caught you?

Fred stared glumly out the window of the compartment he and his twin brother were sharing. The Hogwarts Express was chugging steadily toward its destination, and still Hermione hadn't come to his compartment. George, noticing his twin's obvious gloominess, chucked a licorice wand at Fred's head. "Cheer up, mate," he laughed as the wand made contact with Fred's nose, "Your little prefect girlfriend will be here soon. 'Sides, you only just snogged her before you got on the train." Fred rubbed his nose absently as he ate the wand, his eyes fixed firmly on the compartment door. "So, Freddie," George tried again, "had any brilliant ideas for the shop lately?" Fred shrugged halfheartedly, "Mmmph." He mumbled around a particularly large bite. In his haste to swallow the bite he choked a bit, but managed to cough out, "Sort of." George thumped him on the back, "So tell me what you've thought up, brother mine!" Fred was sufficiently diverted, launching into the ideas he had been mulling over the past few weeks. George vetoed the exploding wizard's chess and the miniature giant squid, but he loved the idea of putting together all the clever ways to get out of class they had been perfecting over the summer. "What if the student didn't even have to go to the hospital wing, though?" George tapped his wand against his knee thoughtfully. "What if we added a second step," George mused, "That counteracts the initial effects once the student is out of class?" Fred added, leaning across the compartment toward his brother. "Wicked!" They high-fived. "What'll we call it?" "Well, it seems as though it'll be a sort of snack-box." "How about Skiving Snackboxes?" George offered, and Fred nodded enthusiastically. "You'd better not be skiving off anything important with those snackboxes," Fred's head jerked up toward the door as his ears were met with his favorite sound. He leapt up and snatched his girlfriend, spinning her in a circle and kissing her enthusiastically, her bushy hair tickling his forehead pleasantly. "I missed you too, Fred," She smiled and kissed him quickly. "I'm supposed to be making rounds of the compartments. I just thought I'd check on yours first. After all, you're the troublemakers." Fred feigned offense, clasping his hand over his heart and sniffing loudly. "Well miss Prefect, I'll have you know my girlfriend happens to be quite well-behaved. She's also the smartest student at Hogwarts and bloody hot," He twitched his lips into a smile as she blushed. "But thanks for the complement," George added with a laugh. "Can't you just stay here with me?" Fred asked, pulling her toward him again and holding her flush to his chest. "Fred, it has only been twenty minutes since we boarded the train, you will be fine for another ten while I finish my rounds." She pulled back gently and he released all of her but a hand with a twinge of regret. "Twenty minutes too long," He muttered, running his loose hand through his hair. "Frederick Gideon Weasley," She said sternly, "I love you." She smiled and kissed him. "I'll see you soon." She spun on her heel and left the compartment, the door closing firmly behind her. A few minutes later, Lee Jordan rushed in, looking harried. "Your girlfriend is on a rampage, mate," He glanced wide-eyed at Fred, "She's rushing about and shouting at everyone." Fred chuckled, "She's just being 'Mione." Lee shook his head emphatically, "You're bloody crazy, mate." George laughed aloud. "He's mental, that one. I don't think our brother's forgiven him for asking her out, yet." Lee shook his head again. "Anyway," Fred chimed in, "Enough about my love life, Georgie. Tell him about the Snackboxes!" George needed no further prodding, launching into full salesman mode. Fred peered out into the corridor in time to see Hermione shouting at a scared-looking first-year who had evidently been trying to bring a Fanged-Frisbee into school. Hermione confiscated the Frisbee, while it tried to bite her fingers, and shook her head at the boy before striding off again. He watched her until she had moved too far up the corridor and was out of his sight.

Eight minutes later, she came bursting in to their compartment and sat down beside Fred on the cushioned seats. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head affectionately. She grinned tiredly at him and leaned in toward his chest, stretching her legs out. She yawned and closed her eyes, and Fred began gently stroking her arm. Her breathing evened out and Fred thought she was asleep. He turned back to George and Lee, who had paused in their conversation when Hermione had entered, and gestured that they should continue. "She's a lot less frightening when she's not shouting," Lee commented. "I was just trying to finish more quickly," She murmured, her eyes still closed, "I wanted to get back to Fred." Fred felt his heart hammering in his chest, and a grin spreading across his face. "I love you so much, 'Mione," He whispered in her ear, and she smiled. "Love you, too," she murmured. "I'm tired," She yawned again. "Then sleep, love. I'll still be here when you wake up." "Promise?" She asked, still quiet. "Promise you'll never leave me?" "I promise, I'll be here forever." She smiled again before her breathing evened out and she went slack against him. Fascinated, he watched her sleep for the next hour, Lee and George's conversation fading into background noise. Finally, his eyes drooped, his head sagged, and he too fell asleep.


	12. Christmas and Muggle Magic

**A/N: Sorry I have been away so much.. and for posting the Christmas story so late. I have been on vacation, and have not had internet. Anyway, it's up now, Happy holidays, whatever you're celebrating.**

**To: iLoveRomance2o11: thanks! I liked that storyline, too. Maybe once I finish a few stories and get some more published I'll expand that into its own story :)**

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><p><em>Was it you who caught me staring?<em>

It was nearly Christmas and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was just about to close for the holidays. The last customer sauntered out of the shop and into the snow just as the welcome sign magically changed from open to closed. The front door ceased singing jaunty Christmas carols halfway through "God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriff", the garlands that were magically strung around the shelves stopped twinkling, and the angel that had been flying around getting products off high shelves for the customers floated back to her spot atop the large rotating Christmas tree in the centre of the room. Fred, George, Verity, and Lee slumped in various postures of exhaustion. Verity had fallen asleep where she sat at the front register, leaning backwards against the shelf to her left. Lee Jordan was sitting on the floor with his legs straight out in front of him near the Wonder Witch products, his eyes glazed over. Fred and George were still standing, barely, using each other for support as they stood on the balcony above the shop, overlooking the rows and rows of merchandise.

Fred, with a yawn, pushed off from George and made his way to Verity, waking her gently and sending her out the door with a smile. "Happy Christmas, Verity," George called from across the shop, where he was hauling Lee to his feet. Verity, eyelashes fluttering, turned toward Fred. "Do I get a special Christmas Present, Fred?" she asked, moving closer to him slyly. "Er... Sure. You can have some rubber wands," he summoned them and, oblivious to her attempt at flirting, pressed them into her hands. She sighed, slipping the wands into her shoulder bag. "That's not what I had in mind, but thanks. She's lucky, whoever it is you're so in love with. Happy Christmas." She trudged out into the snow, leaving a mildly bewildered Fred at the door. He couldn't think who she was talking about, he wasn't in love with anyone.

George, meanwhile, had drug Lee all the way to the side door that led into the alley, and was struggling to open it. Fred, noticing this, moved quickly to the door and opened it easily. "Allow me, brother mine." George shot him a mischievous grin before throwing Lee face first into a snowdrift. "Happy Christmas, you tosser!" the twins shouted, simultaneously. Lee sat up and aimed two snowballs at their grinning faces. George's missed him, and instead both hit Fred in the face, causing all three boys to burst out in raucous laughter. The twins then proceeded to lock up the shop and, after looking through the massive pile of inventory in the back, decided to put it off until after the holidays in favour of making it to their mum's in time for Christmas dinner. George shoved Fred out of the way in order to reach the floo first, and Fred in return jumped on his twin's back, vaulting over him and shoving him backward. He toppled into a pyramid-shaped display of muggle magic tricks, sending them cascading over the floor, before leaping to his feet again. The two tumbled around on the floor, knocking over a few more displays and using the last remnants of their energy.

George eventually conceded defeat, lying on the ground panting heavily, his shoulder digging painfully into Fred's ribs. Fred rose unsteadily to his feet, as his legs felt more like gelatine then muscle. He instinctively felt in his pocket for the little wrapped box that he'd been carrying around all day, making sure it hadn't fallen out, and closed his hand around it reflexively as he tossed floo powder into the fireplace. He barely managed to get the words "The Burrow" out before George shoved him face-first into the fireplace. He landed with a thud on the mantle, at his Mum's feet. "Hello Fred, dear. Nice of you to join us, it's nearly supper." She greeted him as though he had just strolled through the back door and wasn't lying on his face in the den. He scrambled to his feet and hurried to hug her before slipping his little box under the tree. George emerged from the fireplace as Fred was turning around, and was immediately shoved backward into the wall, knocking a vase off the mantle. Fred, who would inevitably be blamed for the shattered vase, quickly repaired it and shoved it back into place.

Since George was now nowhere to be found, Fred wandered into the kitchen, lured by the scents of the Christmas feast his mum always put on. He stole a taste of the Yorkshire pudding that was cooling on the counter, and was moving to stick his finger in the mince pie when his mum walked in to check the ham. He tried to sidle away before she noticed him, but she called out, "You'd better not be eating any of this food, Fred." He coughed and ran out the side door, nearly colliding with Ginny, who was looking for Harry. The golden trio was missing, and nobody appeared to have told Ginny where they went. She scowled at him, her swollen belly poking out from beneath her shirt, before flopping on the couch and massaging her ankles. Fred grinned at her and pulled her hair back from her face. Her scowl turned to a grateful smile as he tucked her hair expertly at the nape of her neck. " Why're you being so kind to me?" she asked, suddenly suspicious. He shrugged, not entirely sure himself. "Christmas spirit?" he offered. Ginny laughed but accepted his explanation.

The main door opened, admitting Harry, Ron, and Hermione to the front room. They stood at the door, laughing, chatting, and shaking the snow from their cloaks. Harry, once he had removed his shoes and socks, hurried to Ginny's side. Ron smiled at Hermione and tried to talk her into going upstairs with him. She shook her head, sending droplets of water everywhere. He shrugged and tried not to look upset, but his eyes narrowed when she walked over to greet Fred. She met his eyes and grinned at him before he pulled her into a hug. A surprising friendship had bloomed between the two over the years, Hermione had become almost as close to Fred as George was. Fred still wasn't sure how it had come about, but he decided as he took in her faint gingerbread scent that he wouldn't have it any other way. He sat on the couch and beckoned to her; she sat without hesitation, extending her feet over his lap the way she always did. George walked in after a moment and sat on the arm behind her. He began conversing with Fred in a series of half-sentences and phrases that they had used since their childhood to exchange ideas in front of their mum. As he spoke, he took bunches of her hair in his hands and toyed with them absently.

Fred found his attention split between Hermione's feet, which he was currently massaging, and the message that George was relaying. Apparently, his mum was in a right state about something that happened in the kitchen. "Hap?" he asked, trying to discover the cause. "Pie." "You?" George nodded and left the room, leaving Hermione looking disconcerted. "I think I understood that," she remarked, "George stuck his finger in a pie and now Molly is upset." Fred, who had been teaching her their language for the past few months, felt a burst of pride that left his heart hammering. "Perfectly right," he told her, and received a grin. They sat in companionable silence until his mum called them in for supper. Christmas dinner was always a spectacular occasion at the Weasley home, and this year was no exception. The large dining room table was piled with everything from the Yorkshire pudding Fred had sampled earlier to a large ham and an even larger turkey, to a steaming loaf of gingerbread that Fred suspected Hermione had made. He piled his plate high with food, making sure to take a large chunk of the gingerbread before anyone else had gotten any. Hermione looked pleased, and served him an extra-large helping of potatoes.

The conversation was jovial and light, Ron was discussing with Ginny how many presents he had counted under the tree this morning, while Harry asked Charlie about Romania, where it was the dragons' mating season. Hermione was sitting between Charlie and Fred, and occasionally piped up with information about dragons. Bill and Fleur were on George's other side, along with Percy and his mum and dad, and they were all, with the exception of George, talking about the ministry. Fred decided that now was the perfect time to carry on a private conversation with George. "Hey Gred?" Fred asked, unconcerned about being overheard, "Can I ask you something?" George nodded agreement, and Fred proceeded to tell him what had happened between him and Verity. George was little to no help in deciphering the meaning of her comment, but Hermione said, with a blush, "maybe she thinks you didn't respond to her flirting because you're already in love." Fred turned to her quickly. "That's brilliant, 'Mione!" he said loudly. "I told you you should write a book. Mad things girls do and how to understand them," Ron piped up, having heard the tail end of the conversation.

Fred laughed as dinner was swept from the table and replaced by several dozen pies of various flavours. he loaded his plate, taking another large chunk of gingerbread, and was consequently rendered silent for the rest of the meal. Once all the dishes were washing themselves in the sink and everyone was comfortably settled in the living room (or had headed home, in the case of Bill, Fleur, and Charlie) Ron began hurriedly counting out presents and separating them into piles. Fred, seized by a sudden idea, knelt to help, deftly snagging the box he had placed under the tree earlier. If Ron noticed this, he didn't say anything. Fred continued to help sort the presents, tossing Hermione's presents at her while announcing who they were from, and hoping she would notice whose name hadn't been called out. She caught them using her wand, lowering them slowly to the ground and into a neat pile at her feet without looking up from her book, and said nothing about them. Ron's pile, which was substantially larger then Hermione's, paled in comparison to Harry's. He had been sent dozens of gifts from witches and wizards that he'd never met, just like he had every year since he defeated Voldemort. Mrs Weasley and Hermione together had enchanted a large red bag to hold all of Harry's gifts, which was ceremoniously hauled out by Fred and Ron from behind the tree and covered with presents from people he knew.

Fred had gone in with George to give Harry a pile of their merchandise, including a few things that they hadn't released yet. It looked as though his mum had knit him a sweater, like always, and Hermione had gotten him two suspiciously book-shaped packages. Ron's was a lumpy package tied with blue ribbon. The rest of the Weasleys, Andromeda, and Teddy had all gotten him something, ranging from small from Teddy to auspiciously large from Charlie. Hermione left her pile to sit beside her, too engrossed in the book she had picked up to check through them, but Ron eagerly pawed through his. He complained once that he didn't see one from Bill, but he eventually found it under a larger one from his mum that likely included the usual Weasley sweater. Fred glanced through his own, looking for only one name, and when he found it, left the remainder of his pile untouched. "I wonder what Granger got me?" he wondered aloud, and she abruptly looked up from her book. "You'd better not open that before Christmas," she warned, and looked down again. Fred wasn't done with her, however, and continued to speak. "Maybe I should just take a quick peek inside?" She narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

He began peeling back the corner, and the box began shrieking in protest. He clapped his hands over his ears, dropping the box into the rug, where it immediately ceased it's bloodcurdling scream. "I warned you," Hermione said with a chuckle as his mum entered the room to send them all to bed. Fred rushed for Hermione as she stood up, grabbed her, and tossed her easily over his shoulder. She gasped with shock, and Fred grinned as he hauled her up the stairs, her bum conveniently close to his face. He tossed her gently on the bed that had been set up for her in Ginny's room, kissed her cheek swiftly, and left the room. When he entered his old room, George was waiting for him, his eyes alight with curiosity. "Is Granger's arse as nice close up as it is farther away?" he asked, grinning wickedly at Fred. "Better, Gred, so much better," he replied, throwing his shirt into a corner and pulling the little box out of his pocket before discarding his pants, too.

The next morning, as on all christmas mornings, Fred and George woke up far too early, and apparated silently into each of their siblings' rooms to wake them up. Ron was given his usual treatment by Fred of a quick aguamenti charm, and his screams woke Harry. Ginny, and by extension Hermione, were woken by being apparated on, Fred took Hermione and George landed atop Ginny. He disapparated before she could cast her signature bat-bogey hex on him, but Fred sat on Hermione awhile longer, pinning her down by the wrists, before apparating away under Ginny's threat to curse him. Percy was awoken by a loud and rather rude version of several Christmas carols, screeched by an enchanted muggle greeting card. In order to avoid waking their parents, a silencing charm was cast on Percy's bedroom by George, so all Fred could hear was him running into things as he stumbled about attempting to discover the source of the noise. Finally, they were all downstairs in the kitchen and, as was tradition, began cooking their parents breakfast.

Percy put on the teapot and started some toast, while Hermione began cooking eggs and Harry started frying bacon. Fred retrieved plates from the cupboard and George got the teacups, while Ron made the silverware dance across the table toward him. Together they set up two trays of food, which were levitated to their parents bedroom. Once their parents had finished eating and the rest of them had scarfed whatever didn't get put on the plates, they moved to the den, where the piles of presents were waiting, as well as the rest of the family. Ron opened his first, exclaiming happily over Harry's gift (season tickets to the Chudley Cannons) and pulling on his mum's Christmas sweater. Harry, with the help of the entire Weasley clan, opened all of the presents in the red sack, discovering everything from a three-hundred year old bottle of firewhiskey to a chocolate frog card with his picture on it and an enormous quantity of chocolates and candies from Honeydukes. He offered the group their pick of the stash, and then began opening his other presents.

While he was thus occupied, Hermione began opening her own presents. She got to the bottom of her pile and Fred saw her face fall. "F-Fred... Why isn't there a present from you?" "I reckon he must've forgotten to get you one," Ron spoke up quickly, shooting Fred a dark look. Fred, who had been waiting for this since yesterday, said, "Ronniekins must've lost it," and made a show of looking around. Eventually, he turned to the pretty witch sitting beside him. "I think I found it," he said, reaching behind her ear, and pulling out the little wrapped box. She gasped as he presented it to her. She smiled and began peeling off the wrapping, just as a bolt of clarity hit Fred. "Wait," he burst out, placing a hand over Hermione's smaller ones so she stopped opening the gift, "I've just figured out what Verity meant." Hermione looked confused, and then uncomfortable. "Can't it wait?" she asked, but he shook his head emphatically. "She meant that I'm in love with a bird, but that I didn't know it. And I think she's right. Hermione, I think she meant you. So, er... will you please be my girlfriend?" Hermione didn't answer, and instead continued opening her gift in silence. She pulled out the bracelet that Fred had spent hours choosing for her, still silent. "Er... Could you say something, love?" She looked at him, and then at the bracelet, and held her wrist out to him. "Could you help me put it on? It wouldn't do for your girlfriend to not be wearing your gift." Fred whooped with joy and, after carefully clasping the bracelet around her wrist, swooped her up into a hug. "Thanks for making this the best Christmas ever," he whispered into her ear, causing her to turn scarlet. "You're welcome," she whispered in return, "Happy Christmas, Fred." "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

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><p><em>Or was it me who caught you?<em>

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><p>Hermione was woken up on the day of Christmas eve by a shrieking and obviously upset Ginny. "It's nearly Christmas and I haven't gotten any of my Christmas shopping done! Wake up Hermione, for Merlin's sake and help me!" Hermione, who had finished her shopping for everyone but Fred, agreed readily enough to go shopping with her friend. They apparated to the alley behind the leaky cauldron, and Hermione pulled out her wand. She tapped the bricks on the wall in quick succession and opened up the passage to Diagon Alley. "Why didn't we just apparate onto the other side of the wall?" Hermione asked Ginny, who had taken her on side-along apparition. Ginny, eyes narrowed, muttered incoherently as she tugged on Hermione's arm, pulling her further up the rows of shops. Hermione spent the first three hours following Ginny around and enchanting her packages to float behind them. She glanced with cursory interest in Flourish &amp; Blotts, but Fred wasn't nearly the fan of books that she was, and indeed rather enjoyed plucking the books from her hands as she was reading them.<p>

Ginny led her into the potion shop, where she bought a new set of brass scales, and it was there that Hermione saw it. A pure crystal phial, with real silver trimming. Fred had discussed getting one, since his current phials made his shredded boomslang skin turn green and mottled very quickly. He suspected it was because he was using glass instead of crystal, but he hadn't got 'round to replacing it yet and crystal was expensive. Hermione carefully took it off the shelf and handed it to the shopkeeper who, after taking her fifteen galleons, wrapped it with a touch of his wand, packing it into a small box for her. She accepted it gratefully and added it to the group of packages floating behind her. She returned to Ginny, who was waiting outside for her, and helped the pregnant girl to her feet. "Pick a good present for Freddie, did you?" Ginny, who had known about Hermione's crush on her brother for years, said with a smirk. Hermione ignored her, much more concerned with keeping a now laughing Ginny from bumping into people as they made their way to the leaky cauldron to floo back to the burrow.

When they arrived, Ginny hustled her packages upstairs to her room to wrap them, while Hermione found herself in the kitchen, helping Molly make the christmas feast. The woman exclaimed over what a wonderful girl she was, and thanked her profusely for her help. She set to work making eight loaves of Gingerbread by hand, the way her mum had taught her. By the time she finished, she smelled distinctly of gingerbread and Molly had finished most of the rest of supper. She waved Hermione off with a smile, so the ex-Gryffindor left to check on Ginny. The girl was still feverishly wrapping presents, having never been very handy with household charms. Hermione offered to teach her the charm, but the girl wanted to finish on her own. "Maybe next year," she replied with a smile. When Hermione reached the base of the stairs, she found herself being drug outside to participate in Harry and Ron's snowball fight. She had barely set foot outside before she was thoroughly soaked, and freezing cold. She enchanted several snowballs to follow the boys around, and then began forming a stockpile as they ran away from the enchanted snow. By the time they were able to throw any more snowballs, she had built herself a small fort, by magic, and was bombarding them with snow.

After about two hours of this, Harry and Ron conceded defeat, and decided to head inside. As they stepped inside, Ron turned to Hermione and began talking to her. "Hey 'Mione, d'you want to come upstairs to my room for a bit before supper?" Hermione, who had noticed Fred from the corner of her eye, shook her head. "Sorry," She murmured before turning to face Fred. As soon as she met his eyes, she felt a huge smile break out on her face. Fred pulled her into a hug, and she hoped to Merlin he couldn't feel her heartbeat racing. Fred beckoned to her from where he now sat on the sofa. She hurried to sit beside him, her feet across his lap as was their custom. he began to massage her feet, and Hermione reflexively closed her eyes. They snapped open a moment later when George sat beside her on the arm of the couch and began playing with bunches of her hair. "Kit no-go." he said to Fred, "Mol mad." Hermione, who had been trying to learn the twins' intricate language, began trying to decode the sentence. "Hap?" Fred asked, his hands still rubbing lazy circles into Hermione's feet and quite distracting her. "Pie," George replied. "You?" George nodded and left, dropping Hermione's hair back into place.

She looked at Fred, who seemed to be watching her. "I think I understood that," She said finally, "George stuck his finger in a pie and now Molly's upset." "Perfectly right," Fred told her with a smile, and she grinned in return. Fred went back to massaging her feet, and they sat in a comfortable silence until Molly called them to supper. As they dished their plates, Hermione noticed with joy that Fred had taken a rather large chunk of the gingerbread she'd worked so hard on earlier, and cheerfully served him a large portion of potatoes. As the meal wore on, Hermione found herself listening in to Fred and George's conversation, even though she tried to keep herself occupied with the conversation Harry and Charlie were having about dragons. But when the twins couldn't figure out what Verity had meant by implying Fred was in love, she had to interject. "Maybe she thinks you didn't respond to her flirting because you're already in love." She felt her cheeks burning as she hoped he would say yes he was in love, with _her_. Instead he burst out with, "That's brilliant, Mione!" "I told you you should write a book. Mad things girls do and how to understand them," Ron added, evidently having heard part of the conversation. Fred laughed, and the table was swept of supper and replaced by pies, and the rest of the gingerbread. Fred, she noticed, took another large piece.

When the meal ended, Charlie, Bill, and Fleur went their separate ways, promising to be back in time for presents tomorrow. The rest of the family moved into the den, where Hermione found herself engrossed in Break with a Banshee. Somewhere near the middle of the chapter, someone began tossing her presents to her. She caught them using her wand, without looking up. The presents stopped flying toward her just as she finished the chapter, and three chapters later, her concentration was broken by Fred. He picked up the present she'd gotten him, and shook it gently. She'd placed a few charms on it before she placed it under the tree, in anticipation of exactly what was happening right now. "I wonder what Granger got me?" he asked, grinning mischievously at her when they made eye contact. " You'd better not open that before Christmas," she told him, feeling it only fair to warn him. "Maybe I should just take a quick peek inside?" He continued, undaunted. She stuffed her fingers in her ears just as he began peeling the paper back. The caterwauling charm kicked in, and the package began shrieking. He dropped it, and the screaming ceased. "I warned you," she reminded him, chuckling. Just then, Molly came in to send them off to bed, and Hermione found herself being thrown over Fred's shoulder, her head resting on his back. Next thing she knew, he tossed her gently on her bed, kissed her cheek, and was gone. Hermione placed a reverent hand over the spot where Fred had kissed her, closed her eyes, and fell asleep before Ginny even made it to the room.

The next morning, she was awoken by a crack, and sudden pressure on her chest. She opened her eyes to Fred Weasley, who was not only sitting on her but had her pinned by the wrists, and a furiously cursing Ginny. "Good morning, love," He grinned down at her. "It's Christmas, you know." Hermione lifted an eyebrow but remained silent. "You really should be getting up now." "I will as soon as you get off me, Frederick Weasley." Fred laughed and tightened his grip on her wrists. "I think I'd rather stay right here." "Get off her right now or I'll curse you into oblivion," Ginny snapped, her wand level with Fred's face. His eyes widened, "Er... On second thought, I'll just see you downstairs." he disapparated with a chuckle. Hermione dressed and then, once she was sure she wasn't blushing, headed downstairs to help make breakfast. She began making eggs as Percy put on the teapot and worked on toast, and Harry started bacon. Fred and George got the plates, cups, and saucers, while Ron enchanted the silverware to dance around the table. Ginny levitated the trays up to her parents room, and the rest of the family descended on the leftover food. By the time Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came downstairs, Charlie, Bill, Fleur, baby Victorie, Teddy, and Andromeda had all joined the rest of the clan in the living room. Hermione found herself wedged between Fred and George on the sofa, her pile of presents sitting at her feet. She sat patiently through Ron's gifts, and helped Harry unwrap his, before finally turning to her own pile. She carefully checked every name on every package, and found herself disappointed when she reached the bottom. "F-Fred.. Why isn't there a present from you?" Ron, shooting Fred an angry glance said quickly, "I reckon he must've forgot to get you one."

Fred leapt to his feet and announced, "Ronniekins must've lost it." He began searching the room for it, looking in all sorts of ridiculous places. Finally he turned to face her. "I think I found it," he told her, smiling as he reached behind her ear. When he pulled his hand away, a little wrapped box was sitting on his palm. She took it in shaking hands, acutely aware of where his fingers had grazed her ear, and began to slowly open the wrapping. Fred surprised her again by shouting, "Wait!" and putting one of his hands over hers. "I've just figured out what Verity meant," he informed her. It took a moment for this to register, and Hermione's first thought was that he'd probably realised he was in love with Angelina Johnson, or Katie Bell, the two ex-chasers he frequently went drinking with. "Can't this wait?" she asked, feeling extremely mortified. He shook his head and continued speaking. emphatically. "She meant that I'm in love with a bird, but that I didn't know it. And I think she's right. Hermione, I think she meant you. So, er... will you please be my girlfriend?" Hermione was shocked silent. Fred had lifted his hands during this speech, so she did the only thing she could think of- she kept opening the present.

When she saw the delicate bracelet inside, she knew she couldn't keep him waiting any longer. "Er... Could you say something, love?" She looked at him and then quickly at her wrist before holding it out to him. "Could you help me put it on? It wouldn't do for you girlfriend to not be wearing her gift." Fred made a joyous whooping sound as she said this. He obligingly clasped the bracelet around her wrist before he picked her up and hugged her tightly. "Thanks for making this the best Christmas ever," she felt his breath tickling her ear and went scarlet. "You're welcome," she managed to say, "Happy Christmas, Fred," "Happy Christmas, Hermione," he responded kissing her cheek fondly. They spent the rest of the morning blissfully, engrossed in each other's company. Fred didn't talk to anyone else until Ron directly addressed him, a bit angrily. "I've been trying to get her alone for ages to ask her out, how'd you manage it?" Fred, very calmly, answered, "Easy there, Ronniekins. I'd appreciate you not talking about my girlfriend as though she's not here," He smiled down at her, and kissed the top of her head fondly. "For your information, all it took was a little magic."


End file.
